The Diamond Flame
by wjjmwmsn5
Summary: The sly girl we all know and love or hate. The boy who killed the the little girl who was sang to sleep. Can they become a diamond flame? Story's better than summary! Rated T because 1. It's the Hunger Games, and 2. It involves the Careers, so swearing.
1. Chapter 1: They Meet

**A/N: I really wanted to do an unusual romance, so here we go! Don't worry, I won't quit Don't Forget Us. After this story, I have three more unusual romances up my sleeve! **

**Here's how this works: 2 reviews on this chapter and I continue. 5 reviews on this chapter and the people who will fall in love (which you will just have to guess who) will fall in love in Chapter 20 (I write long stories anyway, so don't worry about a short relationship). 10 reviews and they will in Chapter 16. 15 (doubt it!) and Chapter 14. 20 (even more doubt!) and they will fall in love in Chapter 10! So prove me wrong and get 20 reviews!**

**This chapter will be in Foxface's POV. I looked it up, and her real name is Mellissa. It is obvious she will fall in love because it says it in the summary, but whom with? Read to guess and review to get to that part faster! It will also start the morning before Training Day 1. **

**In this story, Foxface is 15, because the guy she falls in love with is too old for her if she is only 13. So I changed it. They still have an age difference, but it's not as bad. **

**Now. On to the story!:**

**Title:**

**POV: Marissa Markison (Foxface) **

I still can't believe I was reaped. I…I just can't. But my disbelief doesn't change the fact that I'm determined to win, if not, then make it to the final five, at least. After seeing everyone, I am dead-set on evading, not attacking, too. But my district partner, Zeke Long, whom is only 12, says he know he'll die in the bloodbath. I feel bad for him. He's so small and already determined to die, where here I am, planning how to get a slice of bread from the Girl on Fire without being noticed.

My escort, Ema Losjisey, wakes me up with a big grin on her lavender face. Today that is her color: lavender. Her long hair is lavender (I believe it to be a wig, but it looks fairly real at the same time), her face is lavender, and the rest of her skin is lavender. Her dress is tight and lavender, with dark purple roses in a flashy pattern all over the dress. Her tights are lavender. Her shoes are dark purple. She looks hideous.

"Wake-y, wake-y, dear-y!" she squeals. I flip over on my stomach and put the pillow over my ears. Into the sheets, I grin. "Marissa! Come on, dear! You didn't look _too_ horrid last night! Come eat breakfast!"

I sit straight up and look at her across the room again. "'_Too horrid_'?"

"Was that not what you were upset about?" she asks, her voice squeakier than ever.

"I wasn't upset at all!" I get out of bed, my reaping clothes feeling warm in this freezing room.

"Well, dear, sorry," Ema whispers. She raises her voice to say, "The mentors, stylists, Zeke, and I are waiting on you!" Then she scurries out of my room and I change into the training clothes.

Once I am done, I decide to hold things off and brush my fiery-red hair. I go to my bathroom and look in the mirror. I brush my hair and look back in the mirror briefly. My auburn eyes, my fire hair, my pink from cold face; my whole face is tinted in red.

I leave the bathroom and head to the dining room where everyone waits. I sit next to my mentor, Sally Lora, and my stylist, Callon Markee. I tune out all of the Capitol people's chatting, and tune in to Sally, who is telling me about training, and I see Logan Alex, Zeke's mentor, is doing the same for him. Finally, after a long, excruciating pause from Sally's advice that is spent on the consistent, boring compliments and excitement over chariots, it is time to go to training.

Sally and Logan take us there, telling us who and who not to stay away from. When we get to the elevator, we're alone, and Zeke and I don't talk. Why should we? If he lives, I'll be stealing his supplies.

Once in the Training Center, I see we are a bit late, because people are already scattered around the large gym. The first person that catches my eye is a huge tribute from District Eleven, crossing his arms and shaking his head at the Careers. I smile. _He is rejecting them_.

I look at all the stations, and I don't go to a weapon station first. I don't need that yet. What I need, is to learn how to survive, and once I've mastered or spent a good enough time on them, I will take a break from survival skills and learn how to throw a knife.

The first thing I head to is the plant identification test. There is a trainer for it, and then for the test part, there is a large screen with buttons in front of it. I go to the trainer first, and absorb all the information from him. Then I head to the test part. I press the buttons fast, looking up for new portions or questions or challenges for it, and continue pressing until it is over, and I look over to the trainer who nods and says I got all right. I nod and walk away.

I go to the fire making station where a little girl sits, attempting a fire. The trainer explains to me the basics, and I pick up a rock and a piece of flint, trying to follow the little girl who isn't doing too well, but seems to be doing it better than I am. She looks up at me as I attempt what she is doing. "You're hair is the color of fire," she says, her voice sweet. "You would look pretty in the Girl on Fire's costume." I nod, this time in thanks. "Do you want me to show you how to do this? I think I almost have it."

Though she is very sweet and kind, I refuse, because any ally I take I'll kill, and I don't want to kill such a young tribute. She shows me anyway, though, and says, "I don't have to be your ally to help you."

We both end up making a sufficient fire within the next hour. The trainer praises us, and I go to snares, parting with the little girl whose name was never revealed.

At snares, I see I am already not alone. The boy from Twelve tries to make a snare, and it doesn't work well. I wonder why he isn't with his girl, the Girl on Fire as everyone calls her, because no one really remembers anyone's name. I am terrible with snares. Even this boy, who is doing extremely awful with them, is ten times better then me. He leaves after another failed snare and I watch him join his girl. I leave, too, and go to knives. I've spent a good amount of time on survival skills today.

I pick a serrated knife, with the handle the color of my hair. I throw, my aim not good, but not horrible, either. After throwing for a while, the Careers approach me. One girl puts her hand out, palm up. I look from her hand to her brown eyes and brown hair repeatedly. Eventually she catches on and realizes I don't understand. She sighs. "The knife!" she exclaims.

I look down at the knife in my hand and back to her. The boy next to her speaks up. His blond hair and black eyes can only be sorted into being a District One tribute. Most likely, you know.

"She wants your knife," he tells me, his voice oddly soft.

When I pause for a very long time, the boy I can only put to be District Two because of his odd outfit in Chariots – which also means the other boy was from District One – says, "Give her the knife. Now."

I step to the side and throw the knife at the target, and, fortunately and with great, _great_ luck, I hit it right on target. Then I turn to the Careers and say, "Take it." The boy from One laughs as the boy from Two gets mad and approaches me violently.

"_What_ was that…District…what? Five? What was that, District Five?" he asks.

"I gave you the knife," I say, and slip away from him with no trace. Her spins around to look for me, and I watch him from behind the knife target. The boy from One laughs again when he sees me, and so does the Career with blond hair and green eyes.

The boy from Two sees this and says, "Where is she, Glimmer?"

"I have no clue," says Glimmer, all too innocently.

"She's behind the knife targets," the other girl reveals.

The boy from Two starts towards me. Just in time, though, Glimmer orders, "Leave her, Cato. She isn't worth it now. Wait until the arena."

They laugh as they walk away, and I silently thank the unknown girl named Glimmer. Cato points back towards me when they are halfway across the gym, and tells the boy from One something. He (the boy from One) comes back over to me. He slips right pass me and retrieves the knife. As he is walking away, he says, "Marvel." Then he turns back to make sure I heard. I nod and he tells me, "I like what you did with Cato." He walks back and I stand there a second, purely shocked. Does he…like me?

I go back to training, not talking to anyone out of shock. A Career. Me. No, I must be mistaken! Careers are awful, awful, bloodthirsty tributes! One could never like me!

_Of course, he doesn't Marissa. He wants to trick and kill you!_ I decide on this, but I'm still extremely shaky about it. I mean, was it nothing? Even if it wasn't, I'd never feed to it, because _he_ is the possible one who likes _me_. So it doesn't matter. It is settled. No more.

When I reach the elevator, the Careers leave Marvel behind, and guess who the two people who are the last to get in an elevator, alone? Marvel and I.

"Hello," he says when we get in there. I lean over to the elevator buttons, and, stupidly, press 5 _and then_ 1. Just a longer time with this guy now. Great.

"What was that?" I ask him.

"What? Talking to you?"

"Yes!" I answer. "There can be no…_love_ in the Hunger Games!"

"Maybe I don't love you," he says. "Maybe I'm just not horrible like the others. Maybe I just don't want to kill. Maybe I just wanted a different ally."

"Oh" is all I can say.

"Yeah!" he says. "So…allies?"

"No. I'm not taking allies," I say.

"Come on…what's your name?" Marvel asks me.

"Marissa," I tell him.

"Come on, Marissa," he begs. "You know you want and need allies. Me."

I laugh at him. "Conceited much?"

"Hey, I'm a Career!" Somehow, I laugh, and so does he.

"Exactly," I say when the elevator door opens to my floor. I walk out and on to my floor.

"Allies?" he shouts.

I wave him off and hear him laugh behind me.

I don't bother stop for dinner. I just go straight to bed and think.

I still hate that boy.

**A/N: I guess now it's obvious who will be the one she loves. Remember to review!**


	2. Chapter 2: Maybe

**A/N: Hey, guys! I'd like to give a special thanks to CallingMeFakeWontMakeYouReal (read her stories!), TeamGlimmer, ThisLittleBabydoll, Araka-chan, and Lil Scream Queen for reviewing last chapter! I know a lot of you added it to your favorites or alerts, and I appreciate that, too! Just because I'm nice lol (and can't wait for them to fall in love!) it will be sooner than Chapter 20! The exact chapter will not be revealed! **

**This story should change everyone's experiences in the arena, so eventually I'll have more POVs than just the two main characters, Marvel and Marissa (Foxface). I might even get around to every named tribute! I KNOW I'll get to Peeta, Thresh, and Rue, because I LOVE them! Maybe not Katniss, since she would be hard to get right.**

**Well, read away, people! And review, please! (But read the chapter first…)**

**Title: Maybe**

**POV: Marvel Gratte**

**Morning of Training Day Two**

I sit in the bed of my room, thinking. Of home, mostly. Of the ill sister I left behind. Of the life I might have abandoned. Of the worrying mother that is probably crying for me. Of the new born baby boy in her arms. Of the father who left us all behind for another family.

Glimmer comes in my room, and jumps on me. "Wake up, big guy!" she says, leaning down to my ear.

"Get off of me, Glimmer!" I order.

"What's wrong, big guy Marvel? Scared you're going to see big guy Cato again?" she asks sarcastically, laughing. Though she's an annoying bitch, she is funny sometimes, and drop-dead gorgeous, I have to give her that. And she's with me about Cato, and thought what Marissa did was hilarious.

"Actually, I'm scared to go see Clove, Glimmer," I tell her.

Laughing, she says, "I bet you are. Ready for breakfast?"

"Can I get dressed?" I ask her, motioning to the new training outfit on my dresser.

"No." I look at her, confused. "I don't think you _can_. I don't think you know how. Had you said 'may,' I would've let you."

Let me add something to the list of things describing her: she's a smartass, too.

I get up, literally shove her out of the room, and get dressed. Then I head out of my room and go to the dining room, wearing my Career-self again, not the Marvel Gratte that worries of Beryl Gratte, his mother, or Obsidian Gratte.

In the dining room, there is laughter. I almost despise that laughter, for that is the sound of the Careers tracking me down when I don't ally with them. If they kill me, that is the sound of my death. That is the sound of Beryl's death. That is the sound of Obsidian's death. That is the sound of my mother's depression. That sound has too many depressing meanings when you're in the Hunger Games.

I sit next to Glimmer and my stylist, Marshole Crosait, and across from my mentor, Cashmere. They talk and chat and laugh and I offer words and laughs that hide the hollowness of themselves well occasionally. Marshole and Oxe, Glimmer's stylist, engage a conversation all about the color peach for Glimmer's interview outfit.

"Darling, you'd look good in anything, but peach is definitely your color!" Oxe says to her. "And you, Mr. Gratte, don't have a color. That is the best thing possible! It means we can dress you in any color and you'll be a star!"

"Agreed!" squeals Marshole.

The escort for District One, Amemelia Troknee, a woman who always wears light pink or light orange, but never peach because she hates peaches, but still loves the color, just refuses to wear it, and always squeals when she hears about Finnick Odair, comes in and sits next to Glimmer, and I laugh for real, with no hollowness, because I know Glimmer hates Amemelia.

"Amemelia," Glimmer says, smiling a fake smile, "glad to have you back."

"Cut the act, dear," Amemelia chimes. "We both hate each other and I hate the districts, so please, dear, cut the act."

"How's it that you ended up an escort, Am?" Oxe asks. Oxe laughs and she gets up, looking at her watch, and pulls Marshole with her. They scurry off. "We must run!" Oxe calls back.

I look at Cashmere, and she nods to tell me it is time for training. I get up, and Glimmer follows me. We go to the elevator and head down to the Training Center.

"What do you think we'll do today?" she asks. "I'd like to try archery."

I look at her blankly for a second, and then ask, "Glimmer, what weapon did you major in, in Career Training?"

She is quiet for a long, long time. Then she smiles at me. "My parents died when they were both reaped at age eighteen together, and I was one-years-old. They died in the Hunger Games, so I was orphaned, and I couldn't go to training. I just decided to volunteer and win this year, so I could know the other victors and I could have someone."

"Oh," I whisper, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." She smiles, and then returns to the Glimmer Shine I know. "I'll still kill you."

I narrow my eyes at her and she laughs. I almost feel bad that I won't be allies with her. Well, I will be if I can't ally with anyone else. Maybe Marissa will give in.

I wonder if she'll stick a knife in my back if we do ally. I'll take the risk.

I don't love that girl. Not Glimmer or Marissa, but I am confused over both. How they act, who they are, and, in Glimmer's case, how they got here just exactly.

I wander around in the Training Center at first, and Glimmer follows me, but then she leaves for the other Careers, and I keep wandering around. Surprisingly, Marissa approaches me.

"Couldn't stay away, huh?" I ask her playfully, but I know she can see the pain in my eyes. For some reason, I just can't stop thinking about Beryl and Obsidian dying.

"I felt _bad_ for you, Marvel, that's why I came over," she tells me, not hiding the truth.

"You're very blatant, aren't you?" I ask her. I start walking and we walk-and-talk.

"Sometimes," she says. "Why aren't you with the Careers?"

"I hate them," I tell her.

"Except Glimmer, of course," she finishes my sentence.

"Yeah, except her," I admit. "I…don't know."

I turn to her to see her smiling, almost laughing. I ask her what, and she shows me the knife Clove likes, and tells me she stole it from her when Clove sat it down. I laugh.

"Maybe." I don't know what she means when she says this, until I do. _Maybe_ she'll ally with me. "I still might stick this knife in your back, but maybe."

I allow a smile and we make a fire together.

Maybe I love her. Maybe, most likely, I don't. Maybe I love Glimmer. There aren't any opposing thoughts. Maybe Marissa loves me. I doubt it. Maybe Glimmer loves me.

I don't think I'll end up allying with any of them.

"You love her," I hear Marissa whisper as she coaxes herself a fire the color of her eyes and hair. "I can see it in your eyes. I can see everything about you in those black eyes."

"Can you see my dying sister, Beryl, and my dying baby brother, Obsidian? Can you see my mother all alone? Can you see my father who left us?"

She looks at me, shocked beyond belief. "Marvel, I'm sorry… Why are you telling me this?"

"Don't be." I look up at her from the ground and smile. "You're not as heartless as you think, Marissa."

"I've heard people calling me 'Foxface,'" she says, not acknowledging what I've said.

"Your face, your sly-and-cunningness…Foxface—oops, I mean Marissa—you are a fox."

She laughs. "I'm sorry, I wasn't listening… did you call me…foxy?"

I smile and laugh. _I wonder if she knows what I'm thinking through my eyes._

"Well, I guess you did. You, Marvel, are foxy, too."

Training ends just then, at the worst time, and Glimmer finds me, while Marissa is still there. Marissa sneers at Glimmer and walks away.

"Why didn't you train with us?" Glimmer demands.

"I hate them," I tell her. She pulls me to the side. She looks straight in my eyes, and she smiles. "What?"

"Then just be my ally."

I don't get in the elevator with her; I don't get in the elevator with Marissa. No, I dart away and end up in an elevator alone with the tributes from District Twelve and the little girl from District Eleven. The little girl smiles, and the older girl scowls. The boy just smiles at her expression, and when I press the button for my floor, I hear her scold him.

Once the upper district tributes are off, the elevator darts down to my floor, where I run to my room, and I lie there, confused and not knowing why exactly I ran away from Glimmer. I sit there, looking up at the pattern on the ceiling. Swirls of blue and red. Roses of pink and white. In the center there is the seal of District One, and the seal of the Capitol, and the seal of the Hunger Games, and a sign that says _District One Male Tribute_.

There's a knock on the door, and I tell whoever it is to come in.

Glimmer opens the door and sits down at my feet, her blond hair bouncing. "So, I guess we aren't allying alone?"

I smile and laugh shakily, as if I've been crying, which I haven't been, and then I tell her that I've not been crying.

"No, of course not. The Almighty Marvel would never cry!" she exclaims. Then she flops down in the bed next to me, me under the covers, and she on top of them. "And the Almighty Cato was a real piece of work today without you."

I feel like speaking, but I don't. I feel like telling her why I ran, but I don't know why, so I don't. I feel like going to Marissa's floor, but I can't leave Glimmer, so I don't.

Eventually it gets so quiet that I fall asleep.

When I wake up, I am alarmed to see that Glimmer is still there, above the sheets, and asleep. Her blond hair is in my face. I push it away and look at the time. "Glimmer!" I say, shaking her awake. "Glimmer, we're late for training!"

She jumps up. There are two sets of training clothes on the nightstand, and she picks up the one for her and runs to my bathroom. I put mine on and wait outside there for her. When she comes out, she races before me, going to the elevator, leaving me behind. I am extremely relieved that she is acting like nothing happened.

I run to training after her, barely reaching the elevator in time, and she tells me to forget about last night.

"I know you love her," she says. She reminds me of Marissa when she says this. "It's okay. I don't need to win these Games anyway. You should, and if you want to save her, you should, because you should win, and because of that, you can give it to anyone. Give it to her. Make her see."

I shake my head. "Never mind."

When we get to training, I go find Marissa.

"Hey, Foxface," I say, smiling at her.

"I swear, whoever you are—oh, hey Marvel," she says as she turns around. "I actually think I might not hate you anymore."

"Thank you." I sit down next to her and realize we're in snares. I can see she is failing miserably. Before thinking and without really knowing why or what I'm doing, I offer, "Let me help you with that."

I the rope she holds into my hands, and in the progress, my hand rubs her like a cliché love story's start, and she looks up at me. I am so lucky today, and I'm not being sarcastic, because she doesn't kiss me like a cliché love story. She just looks around and says, "Thank you. Actually, I should go."

Maybe if there was no spark, she'd have stayed. In the moment, I didn't pay attention for a spark. I prayed that she wouldn't kiss me. And she didn't.

But maybe she felt a spark. As I watch her walk away, I can't decide if it's good or not if she did. Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't. If it isn't, maybe it's because of Glimmer.

I go to spears and throw one out of anger.

Then I do the thing that is the worst mistake other than volunteering in my life so far. I go back to the Careers. When I look over to Marissa, her eyes show such obvious sense of betrayal that it hurts my heart.

But I continue with the Careers, and Glimmer seems happy, so that's good…right?

"Are you off in space again, Lover Boy?" Cato asks with a laugh. "I thought Peeta was in love… but wow."

"Peeta?" I ask. "Who's Peeta?"

"District Twelve," Clove tells me. "He's going to lead us to Katniss when the Games begin."

"Katniss?"

"The Girl on Fire," Clove answers.

"Ah, I see," I say.

Cato pats me on the back. "And I thought Glimmer only had blond moments. Now, are you staying?" he demands.

I can see Marissa has gotten closer so she could hear. I lock eyes with her. Before Cato snaps, though, I have to say something. So it falls out of my mouth. "Of course."

Then I can't see Marissa anymore and I have my answer.

It's not Glimmer. It's _definitely_ not Clove and it never was.

It's Marissa.

But it's too late.

"Come on, Lover Boy, we have to go find Lover Boy number 2," Cato says.

Clove tags right behind him, and Glimmer stays next to me for a second to say, "Never mind what I said in the elevator. I guess you don't love her."

"Do you love me?" I ask her.

"I don't think so," she answers. "Not anymore anyway. I did when we first got here, but now…no. You're a good friend, though."

And that's all I want to be.

She runs up to the front. She is my best friend, yes, but I don't know why I ever thought I loved her. Her personality—flaunting, and, yes, I will admit it, sexy—makes it feel like she's throwing herself at you, and she is gorgeous, so I fell for the oldest trick: judging a book by its cover.

Cato tells me to catch up, so I do. So we, Glimmer, and then Clove, and then Cato, and then me, all go retrieve Peeta. Katniss doesn't notice from all the way in knot tying.

"What do you know?" Cato demands from him.

"Nothing yet," Peeta says.

Cato steps close to him. Before he can open his mouth, I say, "Leave him, Cato! We need him, don't we, or am I missing something again?"

Cato steps back and scowls at me. "Watch it. I still don't think you're so loyal."

I think I may not hate this Peeta. We both know a girl. Cato wants to kill us both because of them. He glances over at me—Peeta does—when I glance at him. I almost see hope in his eyes, but I also see fear and hate. And love. And defiance. Maybe it's all for Katniss.

There have been too many maybes today.

**A/N: I know, I know. This was iffy, but I imagine Marvel as a bit confused in this situation, so that's how I wrote him. But he isn't anymore! Now he's not confused! Trust me, though, the next chapter from Marvel's perspective will be SO MUCH better! **

**I think all of that from above can be overlooked, though, can't it? I mean, come on! I gave you Peeta! And I know some of you don't like him (how could you?), so I also brought Cato in, too! So, work with me! If you hate both…I don't know how you can. I LOVE Peeta, and Cato or Marvel would have to be next. Well, other than Finnick and Haymitch, and Cinna beats them all! But, I guess, if the only person you like is Gale, I guess I can forgive you, because I hate Gale. Not entirely, but very much.**

**Now that I've bored you have to death, check out my poll, and REVIEW! Tell me who you want for the next POV, please, too. I don't knowwwww! The only person I won't do is: A. someone who isn't a tribute, B. someone who is unnamed, or C. Katniss. I WILL do Peeta, because, as we all know, I love him (we've all been there; maybe not with Peeta, but with someone from the Hunger Games!). **


	3. Chapter 3 I Just Know

**A/N: The moment has come for me to write something...in Cato's perspective! Love him! All my friends say I'm crazy because of it, but if I weren't Team Peeta, I'd be Team Cato. This chapter is also one of the reasons why this story is T. Cato just isn't a good boy when it comes to language, especially around Clove... (don't get me wrong, I am SO Team Clato, too!)** **So I'm warning you about that now. **

**Okay, I would really like to thank everyone who has or is reading this! This has only been up for four days, and, right at this very moment I am writing this, there are 378 hits! I really appreciate this, especially to all of those who have reviewed, and/or favorited, and/or added this to your alerts. It really means a lot to me when I get those emails saying you did that!**

**Excuse me for using a lot of exclamation marks. I do that a lot. Just check out my SYOT Updates chapter. You'll see.**

**I went that whole paragrah without a single exclamation point! Now, on to the chapter:**

**Title: I Just Know**

**POV: Cato Long**

**Morning before individual Gamemaker Sessions**

I wake up to the sound of Clove fretting outside my door about who knows what. "Come in," I call to the door. She bursts in the door, frowning at me still being in bed. "What?"

"Get up," she orders.

I sit up, but because I want to, not because she told me to, and say, "Just because I already know you, doesn't mean you're dominant, Clove. You're merely fifteen, while the rest of us are sixteen and seventeen."

"So?" she snaps. "You're merely sixteen, while Marvel is seventeen. Why isn't _he_ leading us?"

"Because he's an idiot, Clove. Don't you get that?"

She rolls her eyes and leaves, and I am glad partly.

I get out of my bed. When I get up, I go to my bathroom and take a shower. In the shower, I make sure to push the right buttons, so I don't end up smelling like daffodils or whatever the fuck Clove said I smelled like yesterday. _These showers are fucked up._

Once I am done, I dry off and dress in the Training Clothes. Clove comes up to me, this time satisfied, and tells me I smell like bread. Then she smiles in the most evil way that tiny of a girl ever could pull of, and tells me, "You smell like Bread Boy!"

"Shut the fuck up, Clove," I order. "I don't smell a shit like him."

"Yes you do." She turns around, her brown hair whipping around with her. She saunters off, trying to either look sexy, impress me, or seem dominant. Out of all these, she fails in them all. I follow her, though, to the dining room, and end up sitting by her. She's in the middle of saying something Clove-like, so I roll my eyes. "What? Not interested, Cato?"

"Not at all, Clove, darling," I tell her, and Brutus, our mentor, laughs.

"You two really are work, you know," Brutus comments, earning a laugh from everyone at the table except Clove and I.

I get up and leave, going to the sitting room. Clove follows. Our escort, Mlia Glossintonial, comes in, ranting about how rude and disrespectful that was of us, and that we deserve to stay in our rooms until it is time to go down for lunch and Gamemaker Sessions. We shrug and head to my room. I tell her to go, but she refuses, which annoys me.

I really don't know why she stays. We don't even talk! She just sighs every once in a while, and, after an hour or so, tries to start up a conversation.

"So," she starts. "Want to win, do you?"

"Are you kidding me?" She looks serious. "Okay... Well, of course I do."

"Me, too," she sighs, bored.

"But the thing is, Clove Alexander, you _want _to, ut won't." She turns towards me from my desk in the corner of my room. "Yes, I said it. I want to will, and _will_. There is a difference."

"You're a jackass," she says matter-of-factly. She gets up and walks out.

I smile, and ven though she can't hear me, I say, just to satisfy myself, "Yes, honey, I am."

Once she is gone, I fall back asleep out of utter boredom.

When I wake up again, it is to Mlia rousing me with her annoyingly high-pitched voice that rises every second in pure anger with me, the Career Tribute that she is forced to overlook. Honestly, if she weren't part of the way to keep all the people lined up to sponsor me calm, I'd say a million other things, but all I end up saying, because of my previously explained reason, in a snarky tone, is, "Glad you woke me, Li."

She smiles at me sarcastically, her face wrinkling in the odd expression and when I walk pass her, I can distinctly feel the stiffness of her aura. It makes me want to smile, but I just continue to walk on. I'll save the smiles for the sponsors tomorrow. I already know they'll love me, but I might as well give them something else to adore.

Maybe I'll talk about home. About my sister, Mikayla Long. About how she wants to volunteer to be like her big brother. About how she begged me to make it back. About how we both knew I would.

I go to lunch alone, in an elevator without Clove, for she is very angry with me. I could care less with that girl. Even if I did care, I wouldn't worry. She changes her mind this-way-and-that. So when she doesn't sit by the Careers and I, I could not care any less than I do.

"What's Clove's problem?" Glimmer asks.

"Told her I'd win," I tell Glimmer. She nods and laughs, and so does Marvel. "What?" When they don't answer, I get angry. "What?" I demand. "Don't keep secrets from me!"

"Oh, Cato," Glimmer sighs, still laughing. "We're laughing at Mrs. Long, not you, Mr. Long."

"You're laughing at my mother?" I ask.

"No," Marvel says. "You act like a couple. We're laughing at her, and saying you guys act like a couple by saying 'Mrs. Long.'"

"Whatever," I say.

We all get food and then we come back. I look down at the steak with bacon and cheese, the soup with crackers and cheese, and the milk in the clear glass cup. Then they call Marvel's name and he goes off.

It's weird, just Glimmer and I being here, with nothing to say or do, but the lack of people makes me less angered. I've been in a bad mood since everything with Bread Boy and his district partner, and everything with that girl Marvel talks to. But slowly that lifts away and it's not a million pounds of anger smashed in, but I'm still generally angry, because Glimmer and Marvel suggest stupid things about Clove and I, and because Bread Boy is annoying, and because Marvel is probably still in lve with that bitch, Foxface, as some call her.

Eventually Glimmer leaves and I'm the only one left at the table, messing around with the bacon I found to taste retched, and staring at the clock, hoping that all that Glimmer does is strut around so I can get in there soon.

I stare at the white wall for a long time, and eventually I imagine it. Killing. I imagine it will be exciting and exhilarating.

Then I am called, and I walk out of the room and into my session, fully aware of how greatly I tower over the tributes.

In my session, I pick up a sword, and wield it around, cutting off dummies' heads, piercing their hearts. Then I pick up a machete and do the same with a different essence, a deadlier one. I throw a knife or two, throw weights, and even attemt archery. I abandon the latter about as quickly as I'd started it.

When they dismiss me, I smile sadistically and walk out.

_Take that, Girl on Fire._

I go back to my floor, and eventually Clove joins me. We—the stylists, mentor, escort, and us tributes of District Two—eat an early dinner, that lasts a long time, listening to Brutus go on and on about things in the arena, and snapping at us when he can tell we are paying little or no attention. "Oh, just shut _up_, Brutus!" Clove and I snap. "We know, we know!"

He lets us go, and we all go turn on the television in the sitting room. Caesar Flickerman introduces the show, and then the real event starts: Training Scores. I make sure to pay attention to everyone's. First is Marvel, who got a nine. Then Glimmer appears on the screen with an eight. Then there is me, with a ten, and I grin at Clove. "That, Clove, is why I lead," I tell her, and she puts on her anniyed face, crossing her arms.

Brutus pats me on the back. "Good job, kid."

We turn back to the screen for Clove. She managed a nine.

"Great, dear," Brutus tells her with a smile.

Everyone rolls by without a standing out score...until Foxface shows up. Somehow, she got an eight. Clove, younger than Glimmer, and Foxface, not even a Career _and_ younger. Both got higher scores than Glimmer, and I know that I might explode next I see her. The next score that stands out is the girl from Eleven's. She pulled a seven. Now I am furious with Glimmer for making a laughing stalk of the Careers. Then there is the boy from Eleven. He is as big as me, so, naturally, anyone like me gets around a ten. But he got a five. Next is Bread Boy, Peeta. He got an eight. So even District Twelve shit got what Glimmer did!

Then there is the girl who has almost always been my target. The Girl on Fire. I wait for something like a three. When I see an eleven appear on the screen, I get up, ready to hit the first thing I see. I kick down a chair at the bar of our floor. Not actually a bar, but set up like one.

I go to my room. When there, I make a satisfying hole in my door, and slam it shut behind me.

Sitting there, I know who I'll kill. But hasn't it always been obvious who the real Games were going to be between? She and I, we'll fight to the finish, but in the end, I'll come up victorius. I just know.

**A/N: Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games. If I did, I wouldn't be writing this, now, would I?**

**Sorry this is so short. I wrote it at 2AM last night, and the only reason it wasn't up was because it was being picky uploading, so I just gave up last night.**

**Thank you all again, check out CallingMeFakeWontMakeYouReal, and review! It'd be very appreciated! Thanks again...again.**

**It is 2 AM now, so I think I'll put this up, continue rereading The Hunger Games, and then go to slee**

**Vote on my poll on my profile for who should get the next POV for this story!**

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	4. Chapter 4: Made It

**A/N: Hey! Back again with another chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games or any of Suzanne Collins's characters. If I did, I wouldn't be writing this, now, would I?**

**Remember to R&R!**

**Title: Made It**

**POV: Marvel Gratte**

**Morning before Interviews**

Glimmer stomps in the room, obviously furious for some reason.

"What's wrong?" I ask groggily, rising from the bed.

"What's _wrong_?" she demands. "What's wrong, Marvel Gratte? What do you think?"

I roll my eyes at her and turn over. She jumps on me as she's done before.

"Glimmer, I swear…"

"They want me to pretend to love you!" she tells me, interrupting me.

"Oh, just tell them no and let me sleep!" I order from her, not at all acting like myself. I look at the clock. Once I see the time, I know I am entitled to be not myself; it is 6 fucking a.m.

…

Once I wake up again later, it is to the annoyed voice of Amemelia Troknee. She bursts in my room, telling me to wake up.

"May I say, Amemelia," I tell her slowly, "you look nice in green." I'm lying, but anything to make her not so…annoyed all the time, I'm all for. Also, I was tired of pink, so I'm glad she's gone another way, whether that sounds weird or not.

It hits me. Marissa. I am so angry with myself for what I've done to her, it's futile to try not to be and just forget it…forget her. That's something I can't do. Forget her. Never. I can't forgive myself. I keep seeing her face when I told Cato I wouldn't leave the Careers. She was hurt. It almost makes me think she might have actually loved me, too. But not anymore, and it's all because of two stupid words: 'Of' and 'course'!

"Thank you!" she squeals, for once happy with people actually from the districts. "Anyhow, time for breakfast!"

I get up with a smile, and she leaves the room. After the door makes a light 'click,' indicating it is closed, my smile vanishes. I put on jeans and a gray shirt. Then I leave the room, my mind everywhere.

In the bathroom, I just sit on the toilet and pretend to shower, leaving the water on for a while and just staring off into a different world where I didn't volunteer, where my family was fine, where Marissa wasn't reaped, where I lived in District Five, and eventually Marissa and I lived happily ever after. But this is the real world, and, more effectively, the Hunger Games, where happy endings are completely non-existent.

Eventually I have to leave the small room and go eat breakfast.

For breakfast, I have plain turnip soup, but, since it is the Capitol, with cream and crackers. After that, I sit there and stare at the empty plate in front of me. Though I don't want food, Glimmer puts a pile of potatoes on my plate. "Don't look so hungry," she says. "It's weird."

I smile and push the plate away. Everyone looks confused, but is so busy talking about tonight; no one really cares for all that long.

Finally, breakfast is over, but then Gloss calls me in for a long, four hour overview of sorts for my interview angle. And then I have to learn how to _sit_ with Amemelia for four hours. How much greater can this week get?

"Now, Marvel, what are you good at?" Gloss asks awkwardly.

"Please, can I just be cocky and arrogant so we can get this over with?" I ask him.

"Just answer a few questions from that angle," he orders.

Before he can ask me a question, I cut him off. "Oh, please no. How about this? I'm a Career. I'll just wing it. They'll love me," I tell him, getting up. "We done here?"

"Sure…"

I go to my room and lay back in bed for a while. I think once again of home. And, of course, of Marissa. I know she hates me, and it was the biggest mistake of my life letting those words 'of course' hop out of my mouth. Now I've lost her, if I even ever had her. I guess it makes it better that I didn't have her. I mean, if I had her and lost her, I don't think I could bear as well as I do now.

Something hits me hard. Tomorrow I will enter the arena. The arena! And all the lives lost…possibly hers… All the lives soon to be lost because of _me_…

…

When Amemelia and I eventually finish practicing sitting, smiling, speaking up, and being charming, I am traded off to my prep team. They prod at me, and poke at me, and I eventually get angry because it's annoying.

"Oh, just stop!" I demand. "Just send me off to Marshole and let her make me a little packaged fish before I go off to die!"

"But wait!" one of them says. "We still haven't even done your hair!"

I whip around. "My _hair_…is _fine._"

Marshole bumps into me. "Now, now, now. Your hair must be done. Go back to them. No objections, Mr. Gratte."

I close my eyes tightly for a second, and, with my eyes closed and my lips thin and pursed together tightly, I turn around, my fists clenched, too. Though I am not the average Career like Clove or Cato, I still have a piercingly fire anger that rises at times, and threatens to be deadly, or, in the least, dangerous.

After tedious hours of work on me, and me trying not to punch every single one of them, I am finally ready, in a blue suit with a yellow tie and a white and blue shirt under it all. Even my shoes and trousers are blue.

Marshole takes me to the interviews. There, Caesar Flickerman is introducing the show, and everyone is ready. I get in line outside the stage behind Glimmer, who looks down-right sexy in a peach dress that fluffs out at the bottom and reaches mid-thigh. Glimmer is called.

She leaves the line and I watch her interview.

"So, Glimmer. I _love_ the outfit!" Caesar exclaims.

She spreads her hands down the bottom half of the dress before sitting down and says, "I do, too! It's magnificent, really."

The crowd cheers.

"Yes, darling, it is!" Caesar compliments.

I can't focus for the rest of the time. Cato and Clove talk behind me on what they are going to down hen their turns come. All I know is Clove is to be sarcastic and Cato charming and cocky.

Next I am called.

I make my way to the stage, and smile winningly. "Marvel Gratte! Tell me about that training score if you can!"

"I am sorry; Caesar, but I can't say a thing!" I tell him with a laugh, and shrug idiotically. "But maybe, if I win, I'm sure they'd let me say, then, might they not?"

"Oh, I'm sure they would." The audience is still roaring for me, and laughing, too. "How clever to think of such! Now…tell me of home, if I may ask."

"Really, I'd say, but, right now, I'd rather you not ask," I let him know apologetically, but still smiling.

The rest goes by in a flash, and before I know it, my interview is over.

Clove is a hit in her orange, frilly, ribbon-trimmed dress. Cato brings sighs from the Capitol women in his black suit. I don't pay much more attention until Marissa's interview. I hold onto her every word.

She is stunning, her red hair curled and in a bun, but also down. A few strands fall in her face. Her dress is light aqua and lacey. It is a bit frilly, too. She wears boots that are brown and from just below her knees down.

"Marissa," Caesar starts, "someone so stunning. Is there anyone? And don't tell me no!"

She pauses. "No."

I close my eyes and keep them closed a long time as she tells about the knives and Clove in training, and then elaborating on her nickname, 'Foxface'.

When I finally decide to open my eyes again, her interview is over.

The next that stands out is the girl from Eleven. She is so sweet and young, the crowd falls in love. Then there is her district partner. Quiet. Looks down and answers with one word. He is utterly unforgettable. At least for me.

Then it is time for the Girl on Fire, who is, yet again, on fire. She charms the crowd, makes them laugh, makes a few cry, and takes their breath away and then makes them scream when she spins.

Peeta Mellark, my ally, is next. He must be charming and funny or whatever. What catches mine—and probably everyone's—attention is when he says, "Because…because…she came here with me."

Caesar Flickerman raps the interviews up and that's it. End of interviews. Less than twenty-four hours until the first cannon of the year booms.

Glimmer and I are taken back to our rooms, where our mentors insist we get rest. We refuse, and just stare out the window at the prancing Capitol people below the window for a while. Their music rises to the window, so even we can hear.

Eventually she speaks up, her voice soft and quiet. "Tomorrow is the Hunger Games."

I turn my head to her. She looks at me. "Yeah, can you believe it?" I sigh. "It still feels like yesterday I was sitting at home, looking out _my_ window."

"Who do you want to win, Marvel?" she asks me.

"What do you mean?"

"It's a simple question," she whispers. "Who…do…you want win?"

I laugh a bit and say, "Cato, honey. I want Cato to win."

She smiles and looks at her lap, pulling her knees to the window sill she sits on and sitting at the window now sideways, her arms resting on her kneecaps. She closes her eyes. "Me too," she jokes, laughing a little. Then she bursts out laughing. "What was that shrug in interviews?"

I almost laugh, too. "Had to do _something_ for the crowd," I tell her.

"Well, Mr. Gratte, you came off as a funny or psychotic—however you want to take it—who isn't so smart."

"Oh?" She nods jokingly. I narrow my eyes so she knows I messing with her when I say, "Well, you came off as the female Finnick Odair."

"Oh," she says, "burn."

"We should go to sleep. As you said—"

"I know. Don't say it. I liked it better when we just forgot for a moment. See you…tomorrow, Marvel."

I get up with a nod, and head to my room. There, I fall in my bed and fall asleep above the sheets, still in my interview outfit. I really don't know how I fall asleep so fast, but I do.

When I wake up, it's to Marshole waking me with a sad smile. "The mentors said to tell you, 'Stick with the Careers'," she tells me. I nod appreciatively. "Come on. We've to get to the hovercrafts if you're going to go win the Games. I'd love to be the stylist of a victor."

I don't know Marshole well enough to know if she's kidding or telling the truth, but my lips play a smile either way. I get up from my bed and Marshole takes me to the roof. There, we find a hovercraft with my district number on it. I place my hands and feet on the ladder, and I'm frozen the rungs. The ladder pulls up into the hovercraft, and a woman, with a needle, says, "Don't fret, Marvel. It doesn't hurt. Just stand there. It's a tracker for the arena."

Her sentences seem like they are trailing in different directions, and since I am focusing on that, it is by shock when the needle pinches into my arm, which makes it hurt worse than it should.

Here in this hovercraft, there is a banquet of food, but I just sit in the seat, admiring the view out the window. Eventually—and suddenly—the windows black. I don't know why, and, at the moment, I don't care to know why. I just keep seeing all the possible ways Marissa could die. Really, it could be anything. Or nothing. She could make it through; not die at all. And I know that's what I want…but I also want to save my family. If it came down to it, though—but I doubt it will—I'd probably let her live.

Finally we reach the Launch Room to the arena. Marshole and I wait there, in silence, staring at the glass tube in front of us that I'll soon be shot up into.

"Don't…die, okay?" Marshole says. "It'd be quite the disappointment…" The smallest of smile turns the corners of my lips up, because I bet she's never actually thought about how her tribute that she'd style would actually have to go in, and that they might die, and that she may never put another piece of cloth on their skin again. "You know, because…who doesn't want to be a _victor's_ stylist?" she exclaims. "I'd be idled by them all."

"Of course, Marshole," I whisper.

Then a female voice tells me to enter the tube. I step in, and stand straight, holding my head high, looking up at the black top of the tube. Then I am rising, and everything is dark.

For those seconds that it's dark, thousands of things rush through my mind. Just like that. And then they are gone and the blinding sun is shining directly in my face. Even though this is true, I have my eyes on a spear and a large pack right at the mouth of the Cornucopia, and then there is a bow next to it for Glimmer.

I look around the arena quickly, so I don't waste my sixty seconds. It's woods on my left, and somewhere between right in front of me and to my right is a lake, and then somewhere between right in front of me and to my left is a nothing. But I know—from Career training—better than that. There must be _something_ there, whether it is some kind of drop-off or a downward hilly slope.

I get ready to take off running to the spear and pack. I set my feet to run as my teacher said to. Then I stare intently at the pack until the gong sounds.

I don't even scramble. I take off, running extremely fast. Not that I need to. I basically have that spear reserved. I am, after all, a Career. Glimmer reaches the bow before I get to the spear. She picks it up and tosses it to me. I catch it and keep running to grab the pack. Once I reach it, I sling it on to my back and turn around, ready to throw the spear. I see no one coming and turn back to the Cornucopia.

Glimmer has already taken off with the Careers. I go to where they stand, Clove and Glimmer on watch and Cato picking through the horn's items. "Get to my side," he orders. I say nothing, and pick through the wonders of the Cornucopia myself. Cato gets annoyed, obviously, and snaps, "_Get_ to my side, District One!"

I stand up; grab a pack, a knife, and a canteen full of water.

If this weren't the Hunger Games and killing weren't required, I'd pour the water from the canteen on his head.

All I say is "Remember I'm older than you…_District Two_."

He stands up, though, angry with me. He comes at me, weaponless, and I pull out my knife, rubbing my finger along the surface, showing off. "You're very gutsy, aren't you, Marvel?"

I may have a temper sometimes, and I may be arrogant sometimes, but even though those are out and in the open now, I still have common sense and understand that age doesn't matter when he is taller than me and obviously stronger. But it does always come in handy to have more experience.

"I can be," I say, watching a tribute come up from behind us. I step to the side, taking my spear, and throw it at her. I think she is from District Ten.

Cato whips around with a sword, and races up to a nearby tribute. His sword meets the neck of the boy from District Four.

"Who's next?" Cato asks, walking back to the rest of us. Glimmer knocks her bow and takes aim at a girl. From what district, I am unsure of. The arrow flies right passed her, and lands in the foot of a different girl. She races at the direction Glimmer shot, until she realizes it was shot by Careers.

"Oh, please no," she begs. "Please, please, please. Don't kill me!"

Cato comes up to her with his sword, standing over her and letting the weapon barely scrape the underneath of her shin. Then he pulls up, there's a burst of blood, and we move on. "Nice job," Clove compliments, taking a knife from her belt. She aims at someone far away. "Got him."

Glimmer knocks her bow again, and she aims for a closer tribute. This time, it hits the tribute's heart and pierces through. Again, there is a burst of blood, and they fall to their knees. Then the tribute falls—face-first—to the ground, dead.

By this time, people are clearing away, heading in all the directions they plan on trying to survive in. I don't notice it for a second, but Peeta is leaning against the Cornucopia, a knife in his hand and a pack on his back. "Am I still a Career?" he asks, starting to walk away from us slowly. "I am, aren't I?"

Cato nods.

We all grab what we want from the Cornucopia and notice a straggler from the group of runaways. He looks like he might puke.

Cato goes over to him and drags him by the shirt to the horn. The tribute shouts, begging for Cato not to kill him. Cato pins the boy to the golden horn, and requests one of Clove's knives. Clove hands him a knife, and Cato puts it right up against the boy's neck. The boy opens his mouth, gasping for air. He tries to choke out something. I catch just bits of words. I think it might be something along the lines of "I can seat boats… Front direct thin." But that makes no sense, so I utter these things under my breath until I finally realize what he's saying.

"Wait," I say. "Wait, I think I know what he's saying…" Everyone looks at me, and the boy tries to. "He said, 'I can set bombs,' and 'From District Three'."

Cato stares at me a long time, and then lets the knife go. "Set them up while we're gone," he orders the District Three boy. "We have tributes to hunt."

"My name's Eric," the District Three boy chokes, rubbing his neck, his hand coming away bloody.

"I don't care about your name." Cato grabs what he wants to take. "Just set them."

We all start to get going, but then Clove turns around to Eric, and we all look at her. She looks like she's thought of the greatest idea of her life. "Here's a compromise, Cato." Then she directs her words to Eric. "You prove to us you can get us a successful bomb before we come back or you're dead."

Then we walk off, ready to kill.

**A/N: I really have absolutely no clue why, but I was extremely excited for this chapter. It's not like Marissa and Marvel are together. It's not like there was a ton of action. Well, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!**

**Now would be the time to review.**

~~Wjjmwmsn5


	5. Chapter 5: Close Call

**A/N: Back yet again! Thanks to all those who've reviewed!**

**I have so many new ideas ahead, and even have yet another pairing mentioned in this chapter. It's one of my favorites, so I have it in here! I have tons of ideas for future chapters, and for this one, too, of course. I even have a new POV coming for the next two chapters! So, I'm excited! **

**Also, I have ONE THOUSAND something hits on this story! That's why the new POVs are coming; because you guys are so awesome and get me TONS of hits, reviews, favorites, and alerts! I have 19 alerts (that's a guess), and 13 favorites! **

**So. On to the chapter!:**

**Title: Close Call  
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**POV: Marissa Markison**

**Morning of Day Two in the arena**

Before it is even dawn, I am up and moving, ready for whatever lies in the direction I go. I think I'm nearing the lake and the Cornucopia again. Knowing the Careers, though, I have no competition, for they're probably out and killing, hunting, and, above all that, having fun with it. It only makes me despise _him_ so much more, and I think we all know who _he_ is.

I keep running, away from the little bush I slept in last night, and dart forward. I'm glad I'm fast, and I'm glad the Girl on Fire came into play. She might have saved me from having the Careers track _me_ instead of her. If it means she has to die for it—and I hate to sound so cruel—then so be it. I mean, twenty-three have to die here, right? So what's wrong with _her_ dying?

A smile creeps into me as I run. I'm glad I'm not the only nameless tribute here. The Girl on Fire. Foxface. We aren't too different in that way. Otherwise, I bet we are about as similar as the color yellow is to the color violet.

Being preoccupied with my careless thoughts, I fail to see the tree branch in front of me, and I run straight into it, going almost as fast as I can, and it rammed right into my stomach.

The breath is knocked out of me. My mouth is open, and I am making odd noises, trying to get air in, and even after I have a bit of air, I am still choking—I wouldn't exactly call it _gasping_—for the oxygen my lungs require to supply life. My stomach is killing me, like a tree was thrown on it, not just a branch. Once I am half recovered, but still panting and my stomach still screaming for me to stay down, I look at the branch that just about killed me. It isn't exactly the monstrous thing I hoped it would be, but going about as fast as you can, and it being the size it is, I don't think someone can blame me for falling on the ground, choking.

I walk for a long time until the panting stops and my stomach is at ease, and then I jog lightly for a while.

I figure I shouldn't be far from their camp, being I didn't get far last night. I ran until I found a bush that _wasn't_ Poison Ivy or something else dangerous and dived in, hoping I could get a decent rest like that. And I did…sleeping in a bush.

Can't tell me that's never been done before.

When I can see the camp, I see there is someone there…a boy. He is playing with a pile of dirt by the tribute's pedestals. But the Careers didn't leave anything. I step further in the trees for concealment. He is working frantically with the pile of dirt. After another quick minute, he says, loud and stupidly, so even I can hear from the woods, "Yes!" He runs over pass the Cornucopia, and I swear he is inches away from me when he passes me. He sets the thud of dirt in a hole he must've dug. Then he throws rocks that he gathered in certain places—_a pattern,_ I realize; _he is creating a pattern,_ but it's too late to memorize it now—to be certain of his work. I wonder why he's going to such precise measures…for piles of dirt. I'm smart enough to know that he isn't just crazy; that something is going on.

Then I hear laughter and footsteps. I sink further into the trees, but I can still see the entire layout.

"Get it done?" District Two girl asks, because she is the first who stopped laughing. She never did seem quite as cheerful as the others.

Then I see him, and I know he did come. And he is laughing, too. It repulses me. We are talking of the same him as earlier.

The only one who wasn't laughing was the boy from District Twelve—it's not hard to guess why he got in this pack, and it's not because he's strong. He just stands there, arms crossed, staring at the laughing boys and girl.

"Take a picture, Bread Boy," the girl from One—Glimmer—says. "It'll last longer."

Bread Boy says, "I preferred when I was Lover Boy."

"But that was before Lover Boy Marvel ran off with his girl," District Two girl says.

Me. I don't like them talking about me, especially when it accompanies Marvel.

They all laugh, except Bread Boy and Marvel.

Again, it repulses me, and even gives me the shivers to think that they actually enjoy the fact that they are killing ruthlessly, and they have fun—enjoy it and laugh, even! I can't even imagine what Girl on Fire will think when she sees "Bread Boy" with them. But I'm sure the sponsors are insane at the thought, trying to digest it, also.

The boy that messed with the dirt throws a rock at a spot far away, and a puff of dirt is blown high. He was creating a trap… an explosive one.

He teaches them the pattern a couple times until they all understand it, except Bread Boy. And no one really cares he can't get it.

But what they don't know is that I memorized it best I could, too.

I notice something, the closeness of two tributes, something I overlooked. I just thought they were standing next to each other. The biggest boy and the prettiest girl. Holding hands, shoulders touching, and her looking at his face when she laughs. Glimmer and Cato.

He looks down at her with a grin and their eyes are together a second. Then he looks up at the _"wonderful"_ device this boy has made for them.

I decide to stay a while and wait, so I can see how they work, so I know how they play their game. I settle down quietly in my concealment of trees and shrubbery and look at them. I am so close I can hear every word except for the soft words Glimmer and, yes, even Cato share, going off to the Cornucopia for supplies.

"Not going to turn out well," District Two girl—Clove…I think—mutters, turning around to pick up her pack and put the sharpest of her knives in it.

"What, Clove?" Marvel asks her. Bread Boy goes off and leans against a misplaced tree that sticks out in the flatness of the land and listens like I do.

"They aren't going to turn out well," Clove says. I almost want to be Marvel for a second so I can ask her, _How'd you figure_ that one _out? _"And either you are going to be mad at Cato because of it, or I am going to be mad at Glimmer because of it. Maybe both. And then we'll all end up simultaneously killing each other."

_I wish, _I think.

"You know, Clove," starts Marvel, "I love your positive imagination." He laughs.

"It's true," Clove states gruffly. "And I don't want to die lying next to you."

"Well, then, I guess we are even, because I don't want to die next to you."

"Exactly. You want to die next to her," Clove says, pointing in my direction. I freeze, momentarily mortified. She found me! Then she says, "Well, wherever she is, your girl. Out in the woods."

I have to remind myself not to sigh when she says this. I shift my head to the Cornucopia off in the distance, and see Glimmer's lips pressed to Cato's. Even as far as I am from them, I know by the closeness and postures that they are kissing.

I turn back to the three—_I mean four,_ I think, remembering the explosives boy sitting on the ground behind Clove and Marvel—and there is a shuffle of leaves as I do so. The two Careers turn their heads, Clove taking out a knife and Marvel a spear.

"Who's there?" Clove asks the trees to my right.

Before any more is said or done, Bread Boy spots me. I know because his eyes are locked with mine. My mouth is wide open, and my eyes are forcefully pleading, _"Please, don't kill me. Don't tell them where I am."_

He makes it look like he is shaking his head from staring off into the distance, but I know. I know that that meant that he'd let me free, that as soon as they were gone, I could get free.

"Give it up," Marvel says. "No one's there."

"Oh." Clove sounds disappointed as they return to where they stood and sit down. "Too bad."

She turns to Bread Boy. "Peeta, make yourself useful and pull those two"—she points to the Cornucopia and the two still kissing—"apart so they can get to work."

Peeta nods and goes away silently. I almost admire the fact that, even though he allied with them, he still refuses to talk to them much.

"Why don't we do something?" Marvel asks.

"Because," Clove says, smiling, "we are getting away with doing nothing."

I realize I have no chance of getting away until they go to sleep. That could be hours! And even then they'll have a guard. I look around and think of a plan. I decide on it quickly. It's risky, but right now, it's my only option.

I snap a largish stick from the shrubbery in front of me.

"Now I _know_ that was something," Clove says, scrambling to her feet and taking the sharpest knife from her pack again.

Marvel nods and takes his spear. They stand there, waiting for a second. I throw my stick to my right.

"That way," Marvel says.

They take off, and I have a feeling they know someone is where I am and that someone isn't actually over there, but I dart to the left anyway. I run like I did before when I ran into the tree, but faster and more alert. I find a tree I might be able to climb and go up to the highest I dare until I am hidden by leaves. They crowd under the tree I'm in.

"We know you're up th—" Marvel can't finish this as he recognizes me. Worry flashes across his eyes. He mouths, _Get out of here. Now._ "Come on down! We know you're up there."

"Yeah," Clove says in agreement. "Or maybe I'll just climb after you."

Clove sticks the knife in her belt and starts to climb up the tree. My eyes widen. This time I don't think there's any getting out of this. I look around out of habit, though, looking for something to help. I am extremely thankful I do. There's a large, sturdy branch basically connecting to the one I'm at from another tree. I pretend to back away, and then when I'm close enough, slip onto the other branch and climb down the tree. Then I dart off again and behind me I hear Clove cursing out Marvel for not coming after me.

I wonder why he didn't as I run fast, and then remind myself I need to stay alert. I run fast and decide that when they don't follow me, and after I pass through a thick clump of trees, that they aren't following me and that I can slow down. A bit.

After a long time I find a place to rest. There, I wonder. I wonder why he didn't kill me, why he is still protecting me. Am I not making it clear enough to him that I don't_ need_, nor do I _want_ his help?

Well, I hope somehow that it's clear now. I get up and walk again. I stumble across a pack. Someone must be out hunting. I pick the pack up and unzip it. Inside is a knife, a rope, four bottles full of water, and a loaf of bread. I take one of the bottles and a bit of the bread and start off again.

Looking back, I would call today a close call.

**A/N: So…now you should, you know, review! **

**I LOVE Glato (is that the right name, or is it Climmer, or is there no name for it at all?) so much, so I had to do it! I just love them!**

**Thank you all again!**

Until next chapter,

Wjjmwmsn5.


	6. Chapter 6: Not Anymore

**A/N: Sorry this took me so long. I have projects due Monday, am trying to finish my current SYOT, and was really stuck on this chapter. I hope you still enjoy, and for all of you Glato fans, you might like this chapter more. For all the Clato fans... Don't worry, Clato's time to shine won't be overlooked. AND by voter's request, this chapter is in Clove's POV.**

**Title: Not Anymore**

**POV: Clove Laine**

**Right after Marissa got away; Day two around 5**

"She got away?" Cato asks. "She got _away_?" He takes my knife right from my hand and slams the tip right under Marvel's chin. "And _why_?"

"She was too fast," Marvel croaks. "Why aren't you mad at Clove? She could've thrown the knife!"

I smirk from behind Cato. "I wasn't supposed to kill her. Cato and I made a deal. If we see her, I try to make sure you kill her. And if you don't..." I trailed off because I want him to think about all the horrific possibilities. I back away. When I do, I see Glimmer's face, angry and wanting blood, her arms crossed. Quietly, I say, "What's wrong, little girl?"

"How come Cato never let me in?" she snaps. "He's supposed to love me."

Inside, I wince, but not on the outside. Why? Because Cato Long isn't supposed to love Glimmer Shine. He's supposed to love me, Clove Laine. He's supposed to love me because I'm his best friend and when my mother and father get too drunk, he lets the twins and I sneak into his house. He's supposed to love me because that's all we're good at: being together and bringing pride to the district. But he fell for her: Glimmer. He fell for her pretty hair and eyes. He fell for her personality. He fell for her, and not me. And so that is why I could care less if Katniss Everdeen is not killed soon. I want Glimmer to be dead. I want her to suffer.

But I don't let it show. Not at all. Ever. I still am vicious and Clove-like. I'm still careless about such. To them.

"Well, you could never be part of a deal where your best friend is killed, could you?" I reply.

Her head snaps to me. "He's going to kill him?"

I nod, a smile creeping on to my face. She lunges at me, frustrated and angry, and takes an arrow from her quiver. I push her off of me. "I swear, Clove," she threatens, "you better be telling the truth!"

"I am," I calmly utter, amused.

"Glim!" Marvel calls from behind us. Glimmer stands up fast, turns around, and, instinctively, loads her bow. "Glim!"

She starts to go towards him, but then looks at Cato, ready to stab Marvel any minute. I see her mouth the words, "Sorry, Marv," and then Marvel's face darkens.

I decide to stop this, because it's not funny or amusing anymore; Cato really is about to kill Marvel. I walk up to Cato and pull back his arm, almost successfully since he wasn't expecting it, but then he whips the sword around, seeing Glimmer looking sheepish because of Marvel's execution. Cato narrows his eyes and slams his arm into Marvel's windpipe.

"Next time, you kill her, or I'll really kill you," he snaps, and kicks Marvel's stomach. Then he lets Marvel free, and Marvel slumps to the ground against the tree. "Now you," Cato says to me as I look at Marvel. He pins me to the tent pole lightly, not hard enough for the thing to fall. "If you ever stop me like that again…"

"You'll what? You won't kill me," I whisper. "Right?"

"Right," Cato breathes. "I—no, I'll kill you. You're so small. It'd be so easy…"

"Cato!" Glimmer calls from behind us. "Cato, stop! No one needs to be killed here!"

Cato turns around. "Fine. I'm going to bed. You all can stay up. When you're ready, Glimmer, I'll be in our tent." But he doesn't sound welcoming. He sounds ominous, angry, and dangerous. He sounds more like a killer than I'd ever like to see of him. I definitely don't like it.

I know him. This is not him. He is bloodthirsty and cruel, yes, but aren't we all when we go in here? But he is also caring. Not kind. No, he's not kind, but he cares. Never has he ever threatened me. Ever. Ever. Ever.

"Glim," Marvel chokes from behind us. She turns around, and looks at Marvel. She walks to him, and I follow her.

"Are you okay?" she asks him. He nods, and tells her to go to Cato. She stands, hesitates, and says, "Sorry" before walking off to Cato.

I sit down next to him. "I guess we're both a little frustrated with the lovers from District One and Two," I sigh.

He looks at me, confused. "I thought you hated me," he says quietly.

"I do, and if it weren't for my lack of want to kill, you'd be dead right now," I tell him. "So. How is the love of your life?"

"Who are we talking about?" he asks.

"Foxface," I answer.

He snorts. "She hates when people call her that." There is a long pause in which I get so bored and frustrated; I consider talking to _Peeta and Eric_. "She escaped. You know that."

"So it is Foxface!" I blurt out. He closes his eyes tightly and runs a hand through his hair. "Well, won't Cato love to find this out?"

"Clove, please," he begs. "I'm leaving once Glimmer dies. Don't tell him."

"Why would you ever guess I wouldn't?"

"Because I talk to you. Because I understand you. Because you don't want to lose the person you talk to when they run off."

"None of that is true," I snap. I cross my arms, purse my lips, and put on a sour look. "You don't know me or understand me. I bet you couldn't even tell me my last name!"

He gets up, rubbing his slightly bleeding neck, and says, "Laine."

I clench my teeth and take out a knife from my belt. I meander into the woods and throw the knife at the squirrel, throw the squirrel to the trees, and climb a tree. This arena is annoying and so many things are going wrong. I was supposed to not volunteer, because Cato was. So I was reaped, and no one volunteered. Like anyone would care. My parents were drunk and my siblings had the Longs. And Cato—he had to volunteer. _'To bring pride to the district,'_ he told me on the train. So I went along with it all. And then…he was supposed to fall for me, and my brown hair and brown eyes. He was supposed to fall in love with the way I threw knives, not the way Glimmer could barely shoot and arrow. But it all went wrong.

And then he pushed me away, and set the sword down for _her_.

But now I think I'll win. I think I'll obliterate every atom of my opponents until I am the last standing. And I think I'll show Cato what bringing pride to the district means.

I guess he wasn't supposed to fall for me. I guess I never _really_ loved him. No, I guess not. Because now he and Glimmer are at the top of whom I am determined to kill. And then everyone else tying for second. Especially Marvel, for her made something weak of me, when I'm not. I could kill him now, before he could kill me. But I decide not to. Too much has already set tension upon our shoulders in the Career pack.

I need them if I'm going to win. I need them for now.

I stay in the tree. I even fall asleep in it. When I wake up, I hear Peeta and Marvel calling my name, and I almost fall out of the tree. I scurry down and Peeta says, "Why were you up there?"

"I didn't know you could speak," I say, dusting my shirt. "I wanted to see what it was like." Lie.

"Sure," Marvel mumbles.

I shoot him a look. "Why'd _you_ even come to get me?" I ask Marvel.

"Eric was busy setting up the last bomb and putting things in the trap." He has blood down his neck and on his hands when he runs his hands through his hair. "You up for breakfast and then a hunt?"

"For whom?"

"You know who," Peeta tells me. "Katniss. Cato says I should know where she should be."

"Cato hasn't been the sharpest person in the arena lately," I mutter. I raise my voice. "I lost a knife last night. I need another one. You two—go get one for me."

Peeta nods and Marvel shakes his head.

"_Fine_," I snap. "_Peeta_, get me a knife or two."

He nods again.

I go back to the camp where I see Cato and Glimmer kissing again. He pulls away first, and walks away from her. She sits there, on her elbows, gazing at the rising sun. If I had a knife…

But then I remember I'm not supposed to think that yet. I'll wait to kill her, if she doesn't kill herself in a moment of stupidity first.

**A/N: Hey! Sorry this was short. Wow, writing in Clove's perspective was harder than I thought! Next time we'll get some Rue! Yes, that's right; I'd never leave Rue out of the occasion. And next time will also be the tracker jacker scene, or right before it and then into it. But it won't happen like in the original series. No, it won't. All because of Marissa, that is different! So that'll come super soon! **

**Thanks and again and review! Review or…well, let's just say review or may the odds be _ever_ in your favor.**

**~~wjjmwmsn5**


	7. Chapter 7: Let's Go

**A/N: Today we shall explore the mind of the little girl whose mind has been explored hundreds of times before. But I've never done that…**

**Yes, Rue has finally come, and she will be very…you know, Rue. **

**Yeah, so…I hope you enjoy, and I have over two-thousand hits on this story! Thank you all so much for that! And sorry, but soon my updates will be decreasing. School is coming back on and I have a new SYOT in the works…**

**R&R!**

**Title: Let's Go**

**POV: Rue Delle **

**Day three; right after noon**

When I wake up, I see the sun is already high in the sky. I must've woken up late.

I gather the roots and berries I have left and put them in my pack that I got at the Cornucopia. I hop to a lower tree branch and jump down, almost earning myself a perfect landing, but stumbling a bit. I walk through the gap in the trees for a bit and see a mockingjay. I hum to it and it hums back as I climb another tree.

The mockingjays remind me of home. They also remind me of how Thresh said that if it were between him and I and he had to decide who'd go home, I'd be more _worthy_. I don't like when he thinks about that. He's so big and strong and I'm so small. He'd be more help in the orchards. But it's not like I _don't _want to go home, because I do. And it's like I said in interviews: if they can't catch me, they can't kill me.

If I look hard enough in front of me, I think I can see a fire. What a horrible way to go. I wonder who the Gamemakers are inflicting such upon. I hope it's not Katniss, and I don't even have to worry about Thresh. He's in the field of nothing across from the woods I sit in.

I decide to get closer to the fire, but it is miles away, so I can't get that near, and I don't want to get _that_ near it, anyway. If they make it out, I want to see who they are. If it's someone like Katniss, I want to help them. I want to help them anyway, but some would kill me before I tried.

For a while, nothing happens, and I begin to think I should just go gathering again. But then the Careers stumble past, dazed and hazed from smoke. I climb higher in the tree and listen and watch them quietly.

"She isn't around here," the biggest boy snaps at the blonde one from Katniss's district. "You said she'd be around here."

"She will be!" the boy from Twelve assures roughly.

"Then where is she?" a small brown-haired girl that I know has miraculous aim says. "I don't see her!"

"She's somewhere in the middle of the woods. Near water," Twelve says.

"Kill him, Cato," the brown-haired boy says, nudging the biggest boy. He doesn't move, just observes the boy. "Fine! I will."

"No," Cato tells her, narrowing his eyes. "If we kill him, I will be the one to do it and I will decide when."

"You said I could," a pretty girl with blonde hair says.

Cato sighs and says quietly, "You will. I was just saying that I would to them, Glimmer."

Glimmer smiles at the girl with brown hair. They move on, passing right under the tree I'm perched in, and I realize that "her" was Katniss. I hope they don't kill her; I want to be her ally. Her pin is the main reason why, but also because she seemed very kind and trustworthy in training.

I hop to a nearby tree that goes higher and get as high as I can. I look through the leaves at the fire far away and see nothing but fire, so I decide to keep hopping until I find something down there other than fire and trees. Once I am at a tree with the nimblest of branches that only I could stand on, the fire far ahead of me halts, and then there is just a slightly burnt forest far in front of me.

That either means the tribute they were targeting is out of dodge or dead, and there is no cannon fire, so they must be out of dodge.

I climb down once more and gather plants for a while. Once I have plenty of mint leaves, berries, and so many other edible plants, I stop and walk on foot further in the direction the Careers went hours ago.

I climb a tree after a while, as the sun starts to turn the sky grayer and grayer and itself more and more orange. My eyes won't close, though, because I slept a long while today, and is still early evening. I settle myself better in the tree and whistle to a mockingjay. It whistles the same tune back. I whistled the tune I used back home to signal work's end. It makes my heart hurt, and then all the mockingjays sing it, and my heart burns.

But then there is a snap. And then laughter. I climb higher in the tree to wait and see what happens only six or seven yards away.

Katniss climbs a tree, but I notice she has a definite limp. Then the Careers come up behind her as she climbs higher. She stops and they do, too, under the same tree.

"How's everything with you?" she calls down.

Their smiles grow to scowls of distaste of her comment, but Cato from earlier calls back. "Well enough. Yourself?"

"It's been a bit warm for my taste," Katniss says. "The air's better up here. Why don't you come on up?"

"Think I will," he announces, nearing the tree's trunk.

"Use my bow, Cato," Glimmer says.

"No." He takes his sword and starts to climb. "My sword will be better."

As he gets to climbing, they shout things like "Kill her, Cato!" and "Come on, Cato!" and "Get her, Cato!" And it all blurs into a string of meaningless noise that I know just to be chants towards her death. Until he falls, too big for the tree's strength, there is joy in their shouts. And then, he falls. The two girls shriek his name until he gets up and they sigh in relief.

Glimmer takes her bow and tries to shoot Katniss, but she fails. Then Cato tries, and he fails.

"She can't stay up there forever," District Twelve boy pipes up. "She'll starve or dehydrate."

They agree and set up camp below her. "Make a fire," one of them orders.

"Psst," I whisper. "Psst." Eventually Katniss hears me and looks over at me as it starts to darken. I point up. She looks up and nods. She makes a sawing motion and I nod and get away, but not too far.

**POV: Glimmer Shine**

Cato sticks the tip of his sword in the fire. I smile at him as he blows it out. "Show-off," I whisper. He smiles back at me and sticks the tip of the sword back in the smoking red embers.

The tension has died down dramatically, and I think all is forgiven because we need to stay together if one of us is to win. Marvel and Clove roll their eyes and carry out a conversation while Cato and I carry ours. Peeta is silent, more than usual.

Clove throws her knife at a lizard and smiles. When Cato pulls his sword and blows on it again, she sticks it on the end and he roasts it.

"You really want to eat this?" he asks her when it's black.

She takes it in answer and pulls some of the meat off the dead animal.

We laugh—even the heart-sore Marvel—and continue joking. I pull Cato down for a kiss and then Marvel says, "Get a room."

Clove laughs. "For once, I think I'll have to agree with Marvel. Get a room."

I pull away from Cato. "Mhm? What were you saying?"

Marvel laughs. "See, Clove? No one listens to you."

Clove crosses her arms and frowns. "Oh, Clove, darling. That's not true. _Sometimes_ I do," Cato says. "But most of the time, no."

"Thank you, Cato," Clove snaps, taking this seriously. "You make me feels so happy."

Cato smiles. "I try."

Clove gives me a look. One of pure deadliness. She's about as deadly as the flames before us. Though she didn't wear the costume, I think she is the real Girl on Fire, and her flames are only waiting to be ignited before they suffocate us all. Maybe not Cato, for her flames can't contain his. But they are just waiting to engulf Marvel and I, and I just hope that when they spark, he and I are out of dodge.

The Anthem plays and we don't watch to see who is dead. Cato lies down and extends his arm for my head to rest on. I lay there on his arm, and then eventually, I fall asleep.

When I wake up, it's barely morning. I realize why I've woken up. I had a dream. One in which her flames—Clove's and Katniss's—engulfed him, right in front of my eyes, and I could do nothing. Once I see his strong, long arm still there, I lie back down.

The nest. It hits and they all leave me there, and I am screaming for him. But at first, he doesn't come. Then I make out a figure in the wasps and in my blackening vision. It's him. He's there. The he I called for.

He grabs me through the mess of muttations and runs with me in his arms.

"I wouldn't leave you back there," he tells me. "Not even if you hadn't called."

"Marvel."

**POV: Rue Delle**

I hear shrieks as the last of the Careers leave. District Twelve boy is telling Katniss to run, and she does so. I climb down, because a few have stung me already and I am too out of it to hop to different trees to escape. Since all the Careers are gone and the tracker jackers that will follow them already have, the ones left behind are looking for a target. Some go the other direction. But some follow me.

They sting me. They make me see things, and I don't know if the things I see are real. Then I collapse on the ground as they make their way to somewhere else. I reach in my pack while I can still almost make sense of things and chew the leaves.

Right before I'm out, I cover all the stings I can reach after pulling out the stingers.

The nightmares. My siblings. My whole family. Dead. Thresh and I. Dead.

When I wake up, I'm shivering in terror. I stagger from the spot I lie in and take off all the leaves from my skin. I stagger along more until I run along a sleeping figure. I shake her awake, and she jumps, reaching for the knife in her pack.

"Rue," Katniss says. I back away a bit, just in case. "It's okay. I won't hurt you. I promise."

I step forward and hand her the leaves. "Did you take the stingers out?" I ask.

She looks down at my stings. "Yes," she answers. "You got stung?"

I nod. "Not too bad," I tell her.

She gives me back the leaves, saying I need them. I tell her I already applied some, but she still refuses, and then she pulls out a cooked squirrel.

"I managed to snare it," she explains. "If I had gotten that girl's bow, I could go hunt with it, so we could have more meat."

"She got away in one of their arms," I tell Katniss, thinking of it.

Realization and fear register in her expression. "Peeta," she whispers. "Do you know if he died? How long were we out?"

I look up at the morning sky. Because it's morning, it had to've been at least a day. I tell her this and she gets up. "We should look for him," she announces.

"Okay," I reply optimistically. "But what about the Careers?"

"We'll deal with them after we find Peeta. Or don't."

I nod and we set off. I follow her as we eat and I keep my eyes out for edible plants. Eventually, she stops and looks around. "It's up to you if you help. I mean, you don't even know him…" Katniss offers.

"No, it's okay. Let's go."

**A/N: Love it? Hate it? Tell me in reviews! Also, let me know what _you_ want to happen next. Obviously there are a lot of things that could happen, and I can't decide what I want to happen next. So you decide! I may not do what you suggest, but it would always help, you know!**

**Review, and thanks again!**

**~~wjjmwmsn5**


	8. Chapter 8: Gone

**A/N: I had most of the chapter written and saved, but I don't know what happened to it, or I'd have had this chapter up _so, sooooo_ much sooner. But oh well, it's up now. **

**Thank you to for helping me with ideas on this chapter! **

**Next time, by popular demand of one vote, and because she's the main female and needs another POV, Marissa will get a POV. Then Peeta because he is awesome and he has a vote and I have plans for him. **

**This is a short chapter, but I want to leave it off at a...decision. Sorry it's so short. The other reason is because I barely had time to write this because I wanted it up soon, and as I said, I had a full-blown, almost finished, very long chapter lost mysteriously. I hope you still enjoy!**

**R&R! **

**Title: Gone**

**POV: Marvel Gratte**

**After the Careers have just crashed into the lake and after Cato and Peeta's battle that landed Peeta with a cut down his leg by the lake. I am making that part follow the book.**

Glimmer is in my arms, floating a bit, and sighing, her eyes shut. She and I have it the worst. With stings everywhere and hallucinations every minute or so, I barely know how I managed to get back myself, let alone get her here in my arms, too.

Before me stands a giant panda eating a coconut. "Anyone else see the panda?" I ask, way out of it.

"I do," Glimmer answers. "It is juggling Cato and Clove, isn't it?"

"No, it's eating a coconut," I tell her.

"We don't see the panda," Clove snaps. I guess she got the worst because she doesn't seem to be too affected. Suddenly she is right in front of me, about to kill me. When I reach out to push her away and yell at her, I fall forward, face-first, into the water before me. "What was _that,_ Marvel?"

"You're going to kill me!" I yell. Glimmer starts to stumble and falls in the water like I did. I pick her up and take her to the edge of the lake with me as I lie down about a yard from her.

When I wake up, it's morning, and no one's up except Cato and I. But here's the twist: He's pinning me down with his sword again. I start, and he presses the sword down harder. "You took my girl," he breathes.

"She would've died!" I whisper-yell.

"I don't give a shit," he snaps. "You took my girl, and you don't take my girl."

"What does it matter, Cato?" I snap. "I don't love her and she doesn't love me. Plus, one of you has to die."

He presses the sword harder, and I can feel it sinking slowly into my skin. The blood seeps from my neck and searing stabs prickle around my neck as I fall under the tracker jacker's spell again. Only this time, nothing is the same.

When I look at them, I see them all betraying me, I see them all killing me, and I see them all dying. I see them all as is I care for them and hate them. The venom twists everything I know and bends it to something I am not sure of. It takes everything I have to not go kill Glimmer because all I can see is her pushing me out the window—or trying—on the night before the arena.

I take a knife from my belt and let it sink into Cato's arm that is holding the sword. He lets me go for a second as he pulls it out, blood coming with it. The hole is just a little, straight cut. I run to the pile of things Eric has made and wonder where he's gone. I go through the pattern even though I'm way out of it. I take a spear, but I don't take anymore, forgetting to.

My eyes are only half open as my spear runs through his body. But…_wait. Is that even Cato? No, it's Eric!_ I think. He falls to the ground, holding the spear where it is in his chest. The cannon sounds. I didn't even know he was still here.

"Clove, hand me a knife," Cato demands from the girl behind him.

Something sparks in her. It's like a fire has just been tended to inside her and it is finally blazing within a second. She takes her knife and it whizzes into Cato's arm, just below my knife was previously. He swears, but I don't hear exactly what words he uses.

"What about home, Cato?" Clove yells at him, a knife coming in her hand again.

"What about home?" Cato says defensively, his sword connecting with her arm, and pulling back quickly. "All I remember is a pathetic, weak girl staying at my house because she couldn't sleep. Oh, I'm sorry. Was that you?"

"Is it _all _you care about, Cato?"

"Yes."

"What about her?"

"No."

"Not even me?"

"No."

I have no clue as to what they're talking about but I get away best I can, taking Glimmer. Before I can, Clove's knife hits my leg, and buries itself deeply in my flesh. I pull it out, pick Glimmer back up, and run.

Once we're on the woods and it's obvious they're too preoccupied with each other, she speaks up, not worried about them—Cato and Clove—anymore. "Put me down," she spits.

I set her down. She stumbles, and falls to the ground. We are safe, so we scoot to a tree and hold each other, freezing. I close my eyes and look to everything in the world that I love.

Beryl. Is she still sick? Obsidian. Is he even alive? My mother. Protecting them all, and unable to protect one of us. Then there's Marissa. I want her so bad. I want to know what it feels like to finally have her, even if only for a moment. I need her. If I never have her, if I never get her, I won't be able to win. I won't be able to win anyway. Not with her and Glimmer. And Glimmer. My new best friend. The one who charms them all. The most deadly and yet the most fragile of us all.

The venom seeps out of me finally and I am back into the world, being able to focus better. But when I look down at Glimmer, I see she is pained. I feel her pulse. It's slow. Too slow.

"Glimmer." She looks up. "No. Don't move. If you move, you might die. You can't die on me."

She smiles again. Her eyes flutter shut. "I'll go when I go. No stopping it, Marvel. If it was meant for me to win, I would and will."

I hold her tighter, like she's my sister and I'm keeping her warm in front of the fire on nights when it's so cold, we can't heat the house all the way. We lie there. And the cannon that sounds is so sudden and quick. It startles me. I remember whom it must be for. "Glimmer," I whisper softly. No answer. "Glimmer!" No answer. I look at her eyes. They are empty but beautiful. Her heart is making no sound at all. That cannon was the cannon for a girl named Glimmer Shine. That cannon should never have been sounded, because if none of this were here, it wouldn't have sounded, and Glimmer would still have someone. And I would get my Marissa and she would get someone right for her. Clove would get her Cato, Peeta would get his Katniss, Beryl would not be on the verge of death, and my father would not have left.

But there's nothing I could do, as she said, to stop that cannon from sounding. It was inevitable.

So now, here I am, all alone, no pack or weapons, in the Hunger Games. I'm going to die. Yeah, I'm probably going to die. I wonder if there has been any other Career who has thought like me right now. Surely there has been. I mean, not every Career from District One wins, you know.

I get up, not daring a tear, as the sun settles itself in the sky for sunset to soon begin. I know what I must do at the sight of the sun. I have to find her. I have to find Marissa Markison and I have to not ever let her leave my sight.

**A/N: Told ya it was short. Clato is soon to come! And Peetniss, possibly, too. And of course, far, far ahead of us is some Marvissa, or, if you don't agree with the team name including Marissa but instead Foxface, then Marvface. I like Marvissa better.**

**Review now and I will bring a twist in sooner. But if you don't…you'll just have to wait! **


	9. Chapter 9: Forget Your Woes

**A/N: Back, my friends, with another chapter, and from Peeta's POV. Mostly.  
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**Title: Forget Your Woes**

**POV: Peeta Mellark**

**Day 7; the day after Katniss and Rue woke up; Marvel has long since gotten away; Marvel's journeys are not to be revealed.**

**Yet.**

The mud. It encases and envelopes me. The mud becomes more a part of me than the beat of my very heart. Every day since I was camouflaged, it has been this way. And like the mud becoming me, dread does, too, because while I was out, I don't know if Katniss died. I should've warned her, but I couldn't.

It's not until it is Day 7 that I hear a crack of a stick.

"What's his name again?" asks a young voice, so I know it's no the Careers. "I only know him as the boy from Twelve."

"Peeta," a more familiar voice answers. It's Katniss. I open my eyes and she jumps. "Peeta!" she exclaims, kneeling down. "Oh, Peeta, we've been looking everywhere. Rue, I found Peeta."

"Come to kill me, huh?" I ask Katniss sarcastically, smiling. "No worries. Cato's already taken care of the job."

She and "Rue" take me down to the stream, half-carrying and half-pulling me, my leg screaming, my heart pounding heavily. And we all end up sweating from the effort, but especially me from the pain. Katniss kneels over me again at the stream and I reach up and kiss her. She is shocked at first, but then something flashes across her face—something I can't place—and she kisses me back.

I wonder if this is the Star-Crossed Lovers from District Twelve bit she's playing on me, or if she actually meant it. I meant it. I kiss her again when she pulls away, and then remember the little girl.

I pull back and look at Rue. She followed us often in training. Her skin and hair are dark and she is small. She looks so very sweet and innocent; it's sad she's in here. She reminds me of Katniss's sister, Prim.

"Okay, Peeta," Katniss says. "You're going to have to roll up your pant-leg s I can see where Cato cut you."

"It runs a bit higher, Katniss," I tell her. "And the mud is too thick. You're going to have to clean all my clothes first." She scowls, which makes me smile. Even scowling, she is beautiful.

I take off my shirt and she sees my burns and stings. "Rue," she calls to the little girl, "will you apply the leaves and burn medicine while I wash his shirt?"

"Yeah," Rue answers, approaching me. Katniss hands her a little tube. Rue applies what Katniss told her to, and then says, "Is it really real? You and Katniss?"

I ponder on this. Is it? It is for me, like I've said. But for her? She did kiss me back. But what was it that flashes across her eyes, her expression? Regret? Passion? Love? Longing? Remembrance? Reluctance? Whatever it was, I don't think I'll ever know. Gale and Katniss at the bakery flashes in my mind. When they thought no one was watching, I saw her smile. She only smiles with Prim and Gale. Never me.

"I hope." The words slip out before I'm done contemplating. But I like them. They are real and truthful. "I also hope Katniss can manage getting me clean."

_Only one can win, Peeta,_ I tell myself, without meaning to. Katniss has to. She just _has_ to. I don't like that she's nursing me, because then I am eligible to win. She still won't let me, right? For Prim, right? Her mother and Gale, right?

Gale. I hate him for maneuvering her and taking advantage of her company, most likely, so easily. For me, she slips through my hands like sand through them.

She comes back and puts my shirt on a rock. "Next…you're socks and pants?"

I hand them over, and all there is left is my boxers, which she avoids looking at. I smile again at this, which brings a scowl that I laugh gently at. Once it's time for boxers, she tosses me her orange pack to cover.

"I don't care, Katniss," I say.

"I do," she snaps.

I let her have her way. Finally when my clothes are dry and on me, we get down to getting _me_ clean. I try as hard as I can to get closer to the stream, but I can't. I break a sweat again trying to. Her gray eyes reflect worry. That brightens my mood; that she actually cares, even though only one can win.

I'm eventually in the stream with the help of Rue, and they scrub me until I am free of mud on my body. Then Katniss and Rue wash out my hair. Katniss tells Rue to look for more roots and things, since there are now three to feed, and I suddenly feel like a burden. Katniss washes my face tenderly. Her wet hands, covered in cloth, find their way around my eyes, my nose, my forehead, my chin, my cheeks, and, my favorite part: the way they clean my lips. With such care and purity. I don't ever want to lose the Girl on Fire, and I don't want her to lose the Boy with the Bread, but she has to if she's to win.

"There's a cave upstream. You can't complain, please. Moan and groan all you like, but Peeta, don't complain. I lost my chance to get a bow the other day, so I'm hungry and in a bad mood," she tells me. I smile and she adds, "And don't smile when I scowl or get mad."

"I'll try," I promise her.

We go up the stream, Rue trailing after us. It hurts like Cato is stabbing me again. But eventually—and _finally_—we are at her cave that she had talked previously about. Then we head in the cave. I collapse to the ground.

Katniss feels my forehead. She tells me I have a fever, but I kiss her anyway.

Behind us, Rue says, "I should go. I'm just causing trouble."

"No, Rue," Katniss snaps, pulling away, and I fall to the cave floor. _Thanks, Rue,_ I think selfishly, and regret it. "You're so helpful."

"Katniss…"

"Rue…"

Somewhere in me, I know Katniss's protests are futile. But in my tired and pained condition, I don't pick it out in my mind.

Katniss says, "Get some rest. I'll take first watch. Both of you."

She gets out a sleeping bag and has Rue and I crawl in. But I refuse, leaving the whole thing to Rue. So Katniss has to keep me close as I drift off, feeling stupid, but could care less how stupid I feel or look. She's here. With me.

Before I drift off, I think, with a smile, _Where are you now, Gale?_

When I wake up, my vague suspicions from last night are confirmed. Rue is gone. And so is Katniss.

**POV: Rue Delle**

"Katniss!" I shriek.

"I'm coming, Rue!" she calls back.

He's right here, in front of me, a knife in hand, deciding whether or not to kill me. A girl is next to him. She is the other fire girl, the one with fire features. She whispers something to him. He shakes his head. "No, Marvel, don't. Katniss is coming. Let's just go!" the girl says loudly.

Katniss breaks through the trees as he makes up his decision. The knife whizzes into my stomach. Katniss takes her knife and throws it at him, but he dodges it, picks it up, and the two of them run.

Katniss scurries to me. "Rue, are you okay?" she begs.

She pulls out the knife. I shake my head but don't say a word. She examines my wound for a long time. Then she says, "I can fix it. I can. I can…not. I'm sorry, Rue. I wasn't in time. I could've saved you."

"Don't say that, Katniss. It isn't your fault. It's no one's. We all want to go home, Katniss," I assure her. "Don't blame yourself. Please."

My stomach hurts like crazy, but I'm so shocked I can barely tell. I can tell, though, that blood is racing wildly out of my stomach and that, being so small, I won't be long.

"Sing."

I am not aware I've said this until Katniss starts singing.

_"Deep in the meadow, under the willow  
>A bed of grass, a soft green pillow<br>Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes  
>And when again they open, the sun will rise.<em>_"_

I know this song. My mother used to sing it to me. But then one day, she said she couldn't because of the rebellion associated with it. Katniss will be in trouble for singing this to me, and I don't like it, but I let her sing, because her voice is so enchantingly beautiful, I can't bring up the heart to stop her.

_"Here it's safe, and here it's warm  
>Here the daisies guard you from every harm<br>Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true  
>Here is the place where I love you"<em>

I'm fading faster now. The sky and everything around me, even her olive face, starts to go white. It fades like clothes in the washer when we can afford to go to the Laundromat.

Because of this, I don't hear the rest of the song, which makes me sad. But then a mockingjay sings my four-note whistle and I smile. My eyes drift shut softly, and all I see is a white, blinding light around me, anyway. The cannon has fired.

**POV: Katniss Everdeen**

When the song is over, my eyes brim with tears lightly, but I push them away. I push it all away. I know what he meant. What Peeta meant on the roof that night. I need to show them that Rue—and I—are more than a piece in their Games. In the Capitol's Games. I see a patch of bluebells. I pick them up and ring Rue's small wound with them. I wreathe her hair and fingers and decorate her shirt. Once they're all gone, I whistle with the mockingjays for a second, since Rue was the little mockingjay, and put three fingers up to my mouth. I do District Twelve's sign of love and friendship and respect for her. "Forget your woes, Rue. Goodbye."

I go back to the cave, staring at the sky menacingly, as if to say to the Capitol, _"_You_ did this. _You_ killed her."_

In the cave, Peeta is looking around worriedly. Without thinking, I run into his arms.

**POV: Peeta Mellark**

She's in my arms before I can even tell her how worried I was. We kiss and she tells me what happened for the next hour, but I am tired and sick, so I barely hear any of it. Since she just saw Rue die, whenever I close my eyes, Katniss snaps me back up and kisses me so I stay awake. To top it all off, it starts to rain.

Then we hear a thud outside. "Peeta, I have no weapon," she tells me in a whisper. "We're defenseless."

But it's just a parachute. With four knives and an arrow. A single arrow. No bow or anything. It's evil of Haymitch, really, to send this gift, and to taunt her because she lost her chance to get a bow. But she smiles, like it means the world and is the best thing ever to her. She kisses me.

"Morning, Peeta," she says. "I forgot to say that."

"Morning, Katniss."

**A/N: I know I said I'd never have Katniss's POV, but in certain occasions, I may have to. **

**Love it? Hate it? Review and tell me for Rue (no rhyme intended)! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games. Suzanna Collins does. If I did, I wouldn't be writing this, now, would I?**

**~~wjjmwmsn5**


	10. Chapter 10: Moonlight Killer

**A/N: Please read the full author's note!**

**Okay. To those who hate Cato (like all my friends), I am now officially not turning back on my being Team Cato. Before I was flexible between him and Peeta, but now… after reading a few more Catno fics, I am dead-set. So after the Diamond Flame series (Yes, I said _SERIES!_) is over, I will not start a Johanna Mason fic as I had planned (she's awesome!), but a Katniss and Cato fic. **

**Still more in love with the idea of Marvissa than Catno, though. **

**Now. TDF Series talk. Yes, if you guys don't randomly stop reading The Diamond Flame on me (please don't!), I will have one—maybe more!—"books" in this series. The next will be titled something along the lines of My Shadow or Forever Apart or Diamond's Doom or Flame's Shine. I will not be up for title voting or suggestion yet, as we have barely gotten to the fact that Marvel has found Marissa, since it was only briefly mentioned in the last chapter! **

**This story, being the first and it being the Games and the building of the main character's relationship (and fall possibly; you don't know it they'll both win!), this one will be rather long. And I mean 25—50 chapters long. I go big on my stories, people! **

**I am excited to announce that the first _hint_ of Marvissa will be in this chapter. And to all Glato fans, I am sorry to say, Clato will be replacing you soon. But Thresh is also soon to be here to make up for it!**

**Now. Onto the longer-than-usual-but-pretty-long-chapter chapter for you to read and our favorite animal-related main-character/not-so main-character is back for more spotlight! No, not Rue! She's dead. (No exclamation point there…) **

**Marissa, people! R&R!**

**Title: Moonlight Killer, Career Forever**

**POV: Marissa Markison**

**Day 6, so I can skip to the good parts… Morning; around 7AM**

It's chilly, and I've lost everything I've found. Well, stolen, actually. And my district partner has died. And I'm cold. And I'm hungry. Thirsty. Tired. Oh yes, and let's just add that it's raining in with that, too! And I woke up in a small clearing when it started raining. So I'm soaked. And I'm cold, did I mention?

As I was when I ran into the tree, I am not paying attention, especially not when a stick snaps. But then another and another does and I run running like crazy. My red hair flies behind me as I go further, mainly thinking, _And I'm cold. And now I will die. And I'm cold._

"Marissa?" asks a voice I know; the only voice in here I can almost trust. I know by the pleading in his voice that he ever-so wants it to be me, and won't kill me. Not again will he kill me—literally or like he did when he rejoined the Career Pack. "Is it you?"

"If it weren't, would I have stopped running? Would I have red hair?" I say to him as he runs out to me.

"You could've been a real fox…_Foxface_," he says, smiling. "I left them."

"I see that," I snap, remembering how angry I was with him and how I promised never to let him fool and charm his way into my friendship again. "Now. Go. I'm done. I don't want you here."

"Please," he breathes, coming closer. Great. He's already begging, like we've been allies for days now, and he just now betrayed everything within me and us. Whatever "us" there is, anyway. "Please, Marissa." His tone's dramatically changed. It's all for the Capitol now; I can tell. So I get closer to him than he expected, look him in the eyes, and slap him in the face.

He stumbles back, and I turn around, taking his knife that he dropped and his pack that fell off.

I can't look back, but someone within me, someone not names Marissa Markison, for sure, tells me to. And they are stronger. They aren't hungry, thirsty, tired, wet, and being rained on. And they're not cold. But I am. I'm all of those things. And yes, I'm cold. So she—_whoever _she is—takes over, and I—the real me—don't like it.

So I look back.

The look in his black eyes makes everything turn to stone. His blond hair. His long arms and legs. His strong—but not like Cato's—muscles. It all's gray. It's not like Marvel to be gray. He is red, like me. He is red like flames. He is red and so am I. So why am I not over there?

_No! I'm not supposed to be thinking like that!_ I tell myself firmly. So I turn back around. But it's too late. He saw me turn back. It's too late. I saw his eyes. So I throw his stupid stuff down, turn around, and snap, "You get fifteen seconds to hug me because I'm staying."

He smirks. "Five," he demands. "I only need five seconds."

"Stop being dramatic," I order. "And I don't care that you're a Career. I'm in charge."

"Says the girl dripping wet with obviously starved eyes and no supplies," Marvel mocks loudly in a muttering tone.

"Your five seconds are up, Marvel," I tell him, and he mock-cries. "No. No crying. You're a Career, after all. Where's your spears?"

"Cato's shoulder." He looks proud, but I bet he's just lying. Like usual. "What next, Commander Face?"

"First. Commander Face?" I ask.

He smiles. Well, his smile widens in pride, like he just won a competition. Other than the Games. "Fox… and then face. Commander Face! Like for me, it'd be Commander Gratte!"

"If anything, call me Commander Markison," I tell him. "Wait, no! Don't call me 'Commander' anything!"

"Okay, General Fox," he says with a sly grin. I roll my eyes. It is surprising how he can go from so hurt to so happy. Next I expect him to jump up and down and do the happy dance. But what would that take, if I allying with him made him just smile and joke? A kiss, probably. A proclamation of more feelings than allies or friends, which is probably what the Capitol wants. So maybe I will. Maybe I will kiss him for the heck of it, so the Capitol is happy. Maybe they'll take it easy on us, let us live longer before we decide who wins.

I still say me.

"What do you say we…just stay here? It's not raining so badly," he whispers in my ear, and I don't know how he got so close. I shove him away. I hate how he's acting so richly for the Capitol all the sudden! I mean, if I didn't know him more, I'd compare him to a mix of Cato and Finnick Odair! "What do you say?"

"I say… I say I'm about to leave! We are allies, not even friends, Marvel. No more, maybe less," I snap at him.

"Okay, okay. I get it." He is still smirking, and I consider slapping the smirk off his face again, and almost do. Because this time, I won't feel bad. This time it'll be his fault. The thing that keeps me from doing so is him saying he'll hunt first. And not all-that-like. Like Marvel. Like the Marvel I know.

Oh, great. There _she_ is again. That _stupid_ idiot who made me look back. "Like the Marvel I love," she insists, and it's so real, it's almost as if it actually is more than my mind playing tricks on me because the Games have made me a bit off.

"Like the Marvel I know is all," I insist aloud, since Marvel is gone. I sit next to a tree and lean on it. A mockingjay lands above me and sings four, soothing little notes.

I drift off again, after curling into a ball.

_He's gone. He… I don't know what happened to him. But he's gone. Has been for days. There's a cannon, the first in a while._

_"Marvel!" I shriek. "Marvel, come back…please, Marvel!"_

_He comes running through the trees. Cato does, too, and Clove. They attack him with a fury, not seeing me, and Marvel mouths, "Don't move," and all of the sudden I can't. They murder him brutally, and then he is almost dead. They leave and I approach him. Before he dies, he kisses me._

I wake up, panting, and he's right beside me. No, not beside me. I'm in his arms. He holds me tightly, like I might evaporate forever if I'm not in his arms. He's almost shaking. I think that he maybe is.

"Why are you shaking?" I ask, still panting from the dream a bit.

"You were sweating and panting and crying and were hunched over when I came back earlier tonight," he explains. "I thought someone killed you."

This isn't for the Capitol. I know the difference between his voice and the voice he used earlier and in the interviews. I know the expressions he uses. For once in my entire time of knowing him, I actually believe he may love me.

"I thought—I thought you were dead. I had to hold you. I was scared that…that I didn't, they would kill you," he tells me with incorrect grammar…technically. "I had to hold you."

"Did you catch anything?" I question him.

"No. I heard you crying and abandoned trying," he explains. Great, now I feel like a burden.

But he cares?

He buries his face in my hair. "Marissa, please. Don't. Don't go. I can't do this without you."

And he's not joking. Because he isn't a good actor, and I know it.

Now is the time to determine my every fate with Marvel Gratte. Saying "I won't" means I am falling for him. Saying "I can't promise you" would mean we aren't anything, and never will be. Saying "Why would I; I have no other way to get food" would mean we are friends and never anything more. But I have never been good with this, and I never could care less if I was. So deciding what to say isn't easy. Do I really _want _this boy before me?

"I won't go."

But he is asleep, and all the courage it took me to say that is gone. I have no desire to work up so much and say it again. It was too hard the first time. So I curl back in his lap, content, and go back to sleep.

When I wake up, it's morning. Marvel is awake, but I'm still in his arms. His chin is resting on my shoulder and his breath is in my neck. "Up?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah," he says.

"Good."

He stands up, stretches, and smiles at me. I roll my eyes. We get our stuff and head out. We walk a long time, without saying one word, and then he says, being a Career, and always at heart will be, "Come on, Marissa, feel the wind and Games in your face." He smiles and starts to run without thinking. He takes my hand and pulls me along. I start to laugh a bit, and then he spins me into his arms. Then his face is inches—maybe centimeters—from my face. His breath is warm on my cheek, like it was on my neck earlier. Then his head lifts, and he, of all things he could do, kisses me.

Against my lips, he whispers, "I love you." But it's too late. I'm already, instinctively, pushing him off of me.

I start to run, but he pulls me back lightly. "Please."

I stay back. We walk again, this time distanced. "I won't," I state eventually, and I don't care if he doesn't know what I mean. It's true.

Then we hear someone. Ahead is a little girl, and the lights in the arena dim dramatically, making it look to anyone who slept in late, like night has already dawned. Marvel and I stand there, stiffly, and then I notice him drawing his knife.

"Katniss!" calls the girl.

"I'm coming, Rue!" calls back another, older girl.

I whisper in Marvel's ear, "Come on. I want to talk to you about…_us_." It's a lie, but I don't want to kill her. This girl. Marvel shakes his head. _I'm supposed to be in charge! He said I would be! _Somehow, the fact that he broke this rubs me the wrong way. "No, Marvel, don't. Katniss is coming. Let's just go!"

Marvel throws the knife, and Katniss runs in the trees. Katniss throws her knife and misses. Marvel picks it up and we run before she can show off how the fuck her eleven appeared on the screen the night of Training Centers.

We run quickly, just in case, but it seems Katniss isn't following us. Still, we keep running. When we finally stop, the cannon booms. I hear the four-note whistle from a mockingjay nearby again.

Marvel killed the little girl.

Well, he is a moonlight killer.

And I guess a Career forever, too.

Might be a problem.

**A/N: Love it? Hate it? Review and let me knowwwww! **


	11. Chapter 11: His, Hers, Mine

**A/N: Please read full Author's Note!**

**Sorry for the delay! My laptop crashed, and I had it saved there. So now I have my dad's old laptop, and if there are a lot of mistakes… well, I'm not used to the tinier keys yet, and find myself repetitively skipping letters or pressing the wrong keys that are right next to each other.**

**But, on the bright side, this laptop is faster, and I like the Microsoft Word Document better on here, because this actually has spell check! I applaud thee, my dear spell check. If it didn't, we'd probably be reading this: Pkrase read gull Suthor's Mote! **

**This is going to be mushy, love-y and all, and _full_ of Marvissa, Peetniss, and yes, the introduction, and the entire blossom, of Clato, my dear Clato fans. Clato will be hard to write, because in here, Cato hates Katniss, and I love Katniss and Cato together. Hmph.**

**Also, I am sorry if the Clato doesn't feel right, but I've been looking up Clato fiction for days, trying to find something to inspire my aspect of the couple. I got nothing. So it's going to completely be from scratch, because I found no Clato fanfics that inspired me. Don't get me wrong; there were good ones, just not ones that felt like they would really inspire _my _writing style. **

**Now. Sorry to bore you, but:**

**Title: His, Hers, Mine**

**POV: Clove Laine**

**Day 7, early in the morning, Cato has been awake for hours.**

I wake up next to him as he searches the early-morning sky. Then I remember. He's mine. Finally, he's mine.

"Cato," I mutter, sitting up.

He sits up, too, and stretches as I shine my knives, specifically my curved-blade one. My most precious one. My deadliest one.

"Yes, Clove?" he says jokingly.

"Morning," I snap, as though I am angry.

"What did I do now?" He laughs, and kisses me. "Morning."

I smile, and kiss him again because we are so close. "Who all is alive? I lost track."

"You. Me. District Six boy. Foxface. District Eleven boy. _Marvel_," he snaps. "_Katniss. Peeta."_

The way he says the last three, I can tell he is more furious than I thought with him. It makes me smile, how angry he is. One: Because he looks cute. Two: It means that today, we'll kill. A lot.

"Ready to kill?" he asks, a grin creeping on his face. Some might call it sadistic. I call it district pride.

"Definitely." The deadliness in my voice is loud, deafening, though I whispered the word, and then kissed him again.

I love the way our lips meet, I love the way he smiles before a hunt, and I love the way he holds me. It's all so alive, so… _him._ I love it. I'm glad—no, overjoyed—that he's finally realized who I am and who he is, and that the way we fit together is perfect. I know it. I've always known it; just set it aside out of anger. And now, he, the boy who has always been there in his own little ways, is with me, to be there… until the end. The end that no Career ever thinks about. But I am forced to, since my end means he loses me, and his end means I lose him.

I wonder if he's as deep in love as I am. Sure, I've crushed on him longer, and he's more sadistic than I, though I don't usually believe in sadism, but still.

This is pushed out of my mind as a large parachute floats down. Cato, already getting up, grabs it, and tosses it to me. I look inside.

"What is it?" he asks, getting his sword.

"A feast," I state, amazed, "of Capitol food."

"Capitol food?" he asks, sitting back down. "Let's eat before we go."

"Good idea," I agree, my mouth practically watering. I'm not hungry, but I so love and miss Capitol food.

I eat eggs coated in candy-flavored pink sauce. It's a bit slimy, but the flavors surprisingly collide well. They dance on my tongue and disappear down my throat, and create a need for more of some Capitol food—any type, really. Kind of like morphling. Capitol food is addicting like morphling.

Next I pick up little chicken delicacies, drenched in cheese sauce that has garlic and butter mixed in, and rolls with yellow icing stripes and taste like lemonade.

Then, because it is cold from yesterday's rain, I sip hot chocolate as Cato scarfs mini turkeys.

"That's good, Cato," I tell him, laughing. "Can't have it show itself on the hunt."

"What? The food?" He looks up, putting the food away and wiping his greasy hands on his pants (the Capitol neglected to send napkins). "Nah. It's not too rich for me."

"Whatever you say."

We pack up, and pack what we want to take. Mainly it's just weapons and a pack of food, just in case. Then we set out. We laugh and talk and joke. And yes, there is some kissing making its appearance. But then I point out a tribute trying to get away from us, and we go silent.

I take my knife in my grasp. "I wound him; you finish him off," I offer Cato.

"Good deal," he agrees, shaking my hand, and I almost laugh.

But then I remember my task and head for him, the boy in front of me. He's running through the trees, but they don't offer concealment as well as he thinks. My knife whizzes into his back without a second thought.

"He's all yours," I tell Cato, stepping aside.

Cato goes to the boy, sword in hand. I approach the two, smiling. He's begging.

"Stop begging," I snap. "Cato doesn't like a beggar."

"No," Cato says slowly. "I don't like beggars, do I, Clove? Sucks that you've already proven to be one, doesn't it, kid?"

"Alex," the kid snaps.

"Tell me," Cato requests. "How did you make it this far?"

"Smarter than you, I bet you," Alex spits.

"You're real stupid, aren't you?" Cato growls. His sword sinks slowly into the stomach of the tribute, causing bloody screams from the kid. Then, once the cannon sounds, in one swift motion, Cato pull out his sword. I clap for him, and he wipes the tribute's blood from the sword on his shirt. "Next up, District Eleven. Then Foxface, Peeta, Marvel, and last, but _certainly_ not least-hated, Katniss Everdeen. Girl. On. Fire."

He kisses me softly. I smile when he pulls away. "Why were you ever with her?" It's a joke, but he takes it seriously.

"Used her for sponsors," he whispers in my ear, so no Capitol camera can hear. "It's always been you, Clove Laine."

**POV: Peeta Mellark**

Katniss kisses me, and then lies down, but not to sleep. She slept all last night when I didn't wake her because she needed to rest. She just lies next to me for a long time, not talking or anything. Eventually a thud outside the cave makes her sit up. "You open it this time, Peeta," she says.

"Take a knife, just in case, Katniss," I tell her.

She nods her head and takes a knife from the pile of four. The pile also includes the one single arrow that I haven't figured out why Haymitch would send it—to torture her is the only thing I got, and I don't think that's right, because she smiled—and why Katniss would be happy about it.

When Katniss comes back, she hands me the parachute and I tear it gently open. Inside is a small tube-like thing. And: One. Single. Arrow. No more again, and again, no more bow. Just the arrow. It flusters me so much it's annoying, like the buzz of a fly all around, but you just can't figure out where the fly is. And I don't want to ask Katniss, because then the sponsors would think I wasn't worth betting on because I didn't know what it was about.

"What's in the tube?" Katniss asks, staring at it,

I open the little lid and peer inside. On the bottom of the lid, the part facing the medicine stuff is a note, not written by a person, but a typewriter or something. It's medicine for my leg, I think.

"Medicine for my leg," I say uncertainly.

"What?" Katniss says, taking the tube. "Peeta, it is!"

"How much do you think it was?" I say.

"A lot" is all she says. Oh well, I don't care the cost. I'm just glad I have it so I don't have to keep Katniss cooped up in her, more in danger then when she was alone, pointlessly, any longer. I don't even understand why she stays. It's not like she's had a crush on me forever like I did on her. That's obvious from after the interviews.

She takes the medicine from the tube and spreads it on my leg. I let out a deep sigh of pleasure. It feels so good…

Then it hits me. If this was so much, sponsors won't be able to spare enough anymore for her bow, and then we'll just, torturously, get one arrow at a time. Then we won't get the bow and… I don't want to think further. But she needs the bow if she is to win. I don't need the medicine. I shouldn't win. She should. So many more people need her than people do me…

Trumpets interrupt my thoughts. Then Claudius Templesmith's voice says, "Congratulations, seven remaining tributes! There has been a… er, rule… _change_. Now two tributes can win!" There is a long pause. "But they have to be from the same district. Goodbye, and may the odds be _ever_ in your favor!"

"Katniss," I whisper. "Does this mean…"

"Yeah, Peeta, we both can…" she stutters.

"We can both win." We kiss. I can finally have my Katniss, and now, unlike five minutes ago, I can keep her. And she can keep me.

We have to win.

**POV: Cato Long**

"Congratulations, seven remaining tributes! There has been a… er, rule… change. Now two tributes can win!" Long pause. "But they have to be from the same district. Goodbye, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

"Clove." She is asleep under the tree I sit under. She was up for hours on watch last night, because she refused to sleep. Now she's interrupted the hunt to sleep. Oh well, it's Clove. "Clove!"

She snaps up. "What? What happened?"

"Clove, we can both win," I tell her.

"No, Cato, there can only be one victor," she mumbles.

"No, Clove, I swear. Claudius Templesmith just announced it," I snap.

I still almost can't believe it, though, either. Both of us? It's impossible. It's too good. I've always wanted to propose when the time came. What better time than when we've just stepped off the train. She'll have seen home once again after weeks, and everything will be gorgeous to her, because she's _Clove_. She'll say yes and everything will be okay. We'll have children. They'll volunteer and win. Simple as that. Clove Long. I think she'll like that title. I can't wait to give it to her.

But first we have to kill all these tributes. Long and slow. I don't want to waste the fun on the trip to the proposal, now, do I?

**POV: Marissa Markison.**

"Congratulations, seven remaining tributes! There has been a… er, rule… change. Now two tributes can win!"

Marvel and I, already close, turn to each other. "Wh-what?" he stumbles to say.

"I know right," I mumble, trying to comprehend what Claudius Templesmith has said. Because if it's what I think he said, I can go home with Marvel Gratte. I've fallen in love with him, finally, so now he's more than my best friend, my ally, or my nothing. Now he's _Marvel Gratte_, and I can go home with him. And I will go—

"But they have to be from the same district. Goodbye, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

My heart sinks. Nothing could ever prepare for how hard this hits me. I can actually feel it in my heart. I've just gained Marvel, and then lost him, all in under five minutes.

Without even knowing it, I am crying in his shirt, tears rushing out onto it. "It is okay, Marissa," he whispers. "It's okay."

I look up, my eyes probably red and wet. "No, Marvel, it's not," I whisper harshly. "It's not. I—how am I supposed to deal with losing you or you deal with losing me?"

"That's just it." He stares at me, long and hard. I can still remember Marvel on the elevator, yelling, "Allies?" It was so simple, and he was so annoying and silly. But now I really know him. He's thoughtful and appreciative. Sure, he's still funny and joking, but he's loving and heartfelt and really warm when you get close to him, too. And I mean it. He really puts off a lot of body heat. "I don't think that when whichever of us wins, we'll ever get over it."

We hug and kiss until around two, after hours, and he says, "Do you believe I love you?"

Now that I love him, I do. All it took for me to realize I love him was the way he held me, the way it seemed as if he'd protect me and never let me go for the world, or on our case, the chance of winning. And in discovering that I love him, I realized he really did love me. And does. Right now.

"Yes."

"Good."

He requires no reassurance from me. It's implied somehow. If it wasn't, I'd know. I'd understand. Why? Because Marvel is Marvel and Marvel is my Marvel. I don't care how close he and Glimmer were. At best, I trust him enough to know that they were just friends. Close, maybe, but just friends.

And I am his Marissa.

**A/N: Next chapter I will not focus as much on just the love stuff. Though it will be there, I promise. And next chapter will strictly be one POV. So vote on my poll for which it should be! And check out CallingMeFakeWontMakeYouReal's stories! **

**Now… well, review, please!**


	12. Chapter 12: Just A Feeling

**A/N: With the most votes of them all on the poll—one vote!—Marissa is back yet again. Whoever voted gets a cookie from Marissa and Marvel. **

**I know I said only one POV before, but I didn't realize that I'd need another POV. Thresh's. So he'll be the only one in Marvissa's way, I promise! But like I said before, this chapter will not focus on Marvissa too much, because something big happens. The fact that Thresh has a POV is a hint! But next chapter will be in Marvel's POV, so it'll be a lot more Marvissa-y (it's always the guy who falls in love, isn't it? I mean, Peeta, Marvel! And I'm going to say that Cato fell in love first, too, back in District Two). **

**And I just realized I am (probably…) going to have to (possibly…) kill Katniss, Peeta, Clove, Cato, Thresh, Marvel, and Marissa! **

**Don't ask why I _just now_ realized that. I don't know. It just hit me when I was reading a Marvel and Clove fic (yes, I like Marvel in other couples, can you believe it? Marvissa is just my favorite). **

**Also, I want Clove's arena hair! It's so cool lol. But, unfortunately, my hair is only shoulder-length and is blonde… poor me… lol.**

**Speaking of Clove (this is my last paragraph, I promise!), I looked up Clato in images and clicked on this one thing (I don't remember what it was) and it was Isabelle Fuhrman talking in an interview (not a video). She said something like, "I don't mind when people support Clato. What I don't like is when they just see Clove as Cato's girlfriend, because she's so much more." And now I want to do a Clove fic, even if just a one-shot. So now my list of to-do fics (other than my many SYOTs and the rest of the The Diamond Flame series) is: Cato and Katniss, Clove fic, Thresh and Clove (don't ask), Johanna, Haymitch, Katniss and Thresh, Clove and Marvel (yes, I like it so much to write it, but not more than Marvissa, I promise, my dear Marvissa fans), and Clove and Cato. I'm going to have ideas for a long time, I guess. **

**Sorry for the super long Author's Note. But onto the chapter!:**

**Title: Just A Feeling  
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**POV: Marissa Markison**

**Day 8, around six AM**

I take a deep breath and grab the knife.

There he is, lying on the ground, hopelessly entangled in a dream. A peaceful, happy dream, maybe. Or a terrible, frightening one. One of pain and hate. Or one of love and joy.

I'm ready, more than I've ever been, to do this. Sure, there'll be reluctance, but we have to end this eventually, right? So I kneel down next to him, knife close in hand, and whisper, "Wake up."

No. I am not going to kill Marvel Gratte. We are going to be like Careers today and go out, hunting for kills. Someone—_one_ of us—has to win this, and that one should win soon.

His eyes open and he smiles as he stretches and sits up. "We still Careers today?"

"Of course," I answer. "We can spare a few hours, though, right?"

"For you, of course," he tells me and scoots over to me. "Have you gone hunting or should I in a moment? I'm hungry."

"I have not and you will not," I explain. "I'll do it in a moment."

"No, no, no, Foxface." He smiles like he does for the Capitol. "I will."

"You seem to have forgotten our deal from a few days ago," I say. "Two days to be exact. I believe I said something along the lines of: 'I don't care who you are. I'm in charge.' And you didn't object. So that's how it goes. I go."

"But, you see, I don't remember agreeing," he whispers in his for-the-Capitol voice that annoys me so. "So I say I go."

"I'll say it again." He looks at me with a look of 'do-it-I-dare-you' essence. "I don't care who you are, that you've trained your whole life, or that you were _formerly_ a Career. I'm in charge."

He raises his eyebrows. For the audience. I hate it when he acts like this; it makes me want to throw up. I don't even know why he does it. He just does. And I wonder why he continuously does it when he probably can see how much it annoys me. Wouldn't it be so much simple for him to just be himself? We'd kiss. We'd get romantic. And then he'd be pleasing me _and_ the audience; not just the audience.

My mind flickers to yesterday when I—out of hunger, anger, tiredness, and defeat—broke down. I am embarrassed of it as I think of it. I barely know him and yet, I still broke down. Sure, we love each other. Very much so. But it's still not like me and was very pathetic. Weak. Embarrassing.

"Marissa." I snap my head to Marvel. "You've been staring off into space for three minutes or something."

"Oh," I say, releasing the knife that I was gripping so hard that my fingers are white. "Just… thinking."

"Well," he says, not for-the-Capitol-like. "I must go hunting now, my dear girl."

I smile at his lame attempt at making me laugh. He takes the knife from next to me and disappears into the trees behind me.

I get up and begin to jog after him. When I catch him the trumpets blaze. _What now?_ I think. "Congrats, remaining tributes! Today in one hour there will be a feast at the Cornucopia with what each of you need individually. Good luck and may the odds be _ever_ in your favor!"

Marvel turns around. "Let's go," he says.

I raise my eyebrows. "No, we're not going," I tell him.

"Why not? We were supposed to be Careers today anyway, so the feast will just make it easier," he explains.

"And deadlier… for _us_," I snap.

"Come on, we have to go," he begs. Somewhere in me I think he wants the rush. No one can ever rid completely the Career essence buried deep inside his mind. "I'll do whatever you say for the rest of the arena time."

I cross my arms, sigh, and turn around. "You better get a weapon, Marvel Gratte, because I'm taking the knife."

"But of course, Commander Face," he says from behind me. He sprints a small distance and is at my side.

"I swear, Marvel—"

"Sorry, sorry…" There's a long pause, but he doesn't refrain from ending with: "…Foxface."

Sometimes I just want to push him off a cliff. In a good way, of course. Well, as good a way pushing someone you love off a cliff can get.

We start running and Marvel keeps looking back the way we came from. After a while—ten minutes, I think—I just have to ask.

"I don't know," he lies after I ask.

"Of course you don't," I say, but not angrily. More jokingly, since he always jokes around with me.

"Okay, fine. I have a reason; I just don't want to say, okay? Fine with you?"

"Marvel, I wasn't angry," I state.

Then next ten minutes are silenced again from lack of things to say because of his sudden outburst. Then a tree branch—a big one—comes in front of us. I swear that's the one that I ran into the first day in the arena. It makes me shudder remembering how a stupid branch almost took me out. But what makes up for it is that I've stolen from the Careers at least three times without them knowing because I know that pattern the boy from Three set the bombs in.

But being at this tree means we are close to the Cornucopia. I never realized that where we stayed at was so close to it.

Before I know it I can see the Cornucopia. And no one's there. So I think of a plan, and, along with the plan forming in my head, a sly grin finds its way to my face.

**POV: Thresh Vree**

The tall grass around me offers concealment in every way. Sometimes it became lonely. But I'm used to it by now, aren't I? With no one but my sister and grandmother left, I've become to know what loneliness means, because I'm always alone, working in the orchards. And every afternoon at quitting time, the little girl would whistle.

I will kill whoever killed that girl; I am certain of it.

The day of the announcement of two victors made me feel even lonelier. Saving that girl and coming home myself, too, would be great. _Would_.

Some walks you just have to take alone. The arena is like that walk for me. I guess I just have to take it alone.

I want to make something of it. My winning. If I win, I want to scream in the Capitol's face that they killed the little girl without saying a word. I want them to pay. And not just for the little girl's death, but for them all. Even the Careers' deaths should be paid for by the Capitol. And that's coming from me who turned them down and is probably going to kill one today, because I am certain it was one of them that killed her.

They don't even know her name. Nor do I, but that's because we never spoke in the Capitol. Ever. We never needed to. Neither of us wanted to know each other's names in fear of the other's death. Well, I bet she remembered my name, but I just couldn't keep hers in my head. I didn't want her to die. I couldn't let her die if I knew her name, connected to her at all.

So, to me, she is the little girl. It fits well enough.

Then after all this thinking comes the announcement of a feast. Soon. Very soon.

But it's far enough away and my location to the Cornucopia is so close I decide to stay put just a while.

That's precisely when a gift floats down. My first.

I open in slowly and peer inside. It's a knife with a serrated and curved blade. It could be of use for today, definitely. But I was hoping for food so I could eat something other than this stupid edible weed I know from District Eleven. It's not that bad, but it's something I'd never eat if I didn't have to.

But in here, I have to.

So I eat some. I chew on it more and more out of boredom and then stand up. The grass basically hits my face. Then I run to the Cornucopia just as the ground in front of it splits in two and reveals a round table with seven backpacks that each has the gender and district number on them.

Just as the table comes up two tributes run out of the Cornucopia, hand-in-hand, and grab the packs with "District Five Female" and "District One Male" on them.

I didn't expect that at all. A Career boy and a District Five girl? That's not likely at all.

They stay back as they look through their packs. The boy pulls out a spear and the girl throws her pack on her back and the boy hands her the knife.

Then I start to run for my pack and stop. The boy from Two has the boy from Twelve pinned down, his elbow on Twelve's neck. The girl from Two has the girl from Twelve pinned down, a knife at her throat. This, I decide, would be the best time possible to get my pack and run. But just as I start to make it for mine, I hear the girl from Two talking.

"Who killed her? One of us? A Career? Of course," she says to fire girl. "What was your ally's name again? Little Rue? Yes. So a Career will kill you _and_ her. I just wish I could have—"

Before she can finish speaking, fire girl spits up blood. And right after that I lift the girl in the air. "You kill her?"

"Who? Who? What?"

"You were talking about her! The little girl! You kill her?"

"N—No! I mean, um…" She trails off and looks back at the two blondes. The one on top still has fire girl's boyfriend pinned down. He stares at Clove worriedly. This has distracted him from killing the boy.

I look over at fire girl, still on the ground in shock and fear.

"Cato, help!" screams the girl I hold suddenly. My hand slips to the knife because I know this Cato of hers is coming.

I don't take my eyes off this girl though. She's done too much to Rue—I guess was the little girl's name—for me to let her off simply. And if it means not looking away as I die, then that's how it will be.

**POV: Marissa Markison**

"Come on, we should get into the thick of things while we can," Marvel suggests.

"No. I want to see how this unfolds." We are just in earshot of it. "Just because we're a part of the show doesn't mean we can't watch it like we're not, right?"

"Fine," he says, annoyed. I grin.

In front of us Clove screams for Cato. Cato's sword is raised at Peeta. Then Girl on Fire screams for Peeta. I think Girl on Fire's name is Katniss.

Anyway, Katniss runs for her bag. She pulls out a bright, shiny bow and arrows. She notches an arrow to the bow and aims for Cato's head. She shoots just before Cato kills Peeta, but Clove yells for him to get out of the arrow's way and he dives away from it and Peeta.

District Eleven still hasn't killed Clove.

"Peeta!" Katniss shrieks. She runs to him and they get out of the way, not even bothering for Peeta's pack. They run in our paths, and for a moment, I think Katniss will shoot us, but when she runs by, Peeta right behind her, she just gives us a look of fright and forgiveness—that latter I don't understand—and runs past.

Then District Eleven boy shoves Clove against the Cornucopia and presses the knife to her neck. "Answer me. Did you kill her?"

"No!" she yells. She's right. She didn't. And though I hate her, I don't want her to die for something she didn't do. I would know. It's how my mother died.

They thought she stole. She didn't. But they still shot her. To this day I refuse to even go into detail in thought. But I can't help it when I'm asleep at night.

"We can't let him kill her, Marvel," I whisper. "She didn't kill Rue."

"Nothing we can do," he tells me.

"Yes, there is!" I insist, and start to go to the Cornucopia, but he yanks me back by the wrist.

"He'll kill you," Marvel snaps.

I glare at him, hard, and then continue to watch.

I want so badly to close my eyes, to run away, to escape this. And my mother's death is in my head now, too, and that's something I'll never be able to escape. I want to crawl in Marvel's arms and go home with him. Right. Now.

"Cato, please," I hear Clove croak.

The sword hits his back as the knife starts to deepen itself into the girl's neck. She falls to the ground as blood finds its way from the large boy's back. And the boy's eyes don't leave Clove as he whispers, "Who?"

Clove points to us. The large boy's eyes find us as a sword comes from our direction and buries itself in his face. Marvel's name angrily escapes my lips. He could've just let Cato deal with the boy from Eleven. He could've let someone else deal with Rue. District Eleven must hate him, and I don't blame them, because right now, I do too.

"Let's go, Marvel," I snap, running. "They know we have weapons now."

I can't believe I had just thought about wanting to crawl into his lap. Right now I want to dig my fingernails into his skin.

The boy from Eleven's face flashes in my head. The spear was between his eyes, buried in there good. Blood formed a puddle around it and to me it seems as if a ocean of blood has been spilled today, though only he—Eleven's boy—died.

"We're still Careers today, aren't we?" Marvel asks.

"Not anymore," I answer, annoyed.

We run back, but Clove—the precious angel she is—has a way for everything. So, of course, her knife whizzes, nicking my arm, and then blood licks its way down my arm. It stings for only a second, and I don't wipe the blood. I run faster.

I have a feeling—just a feeling—that the Games will be over today.

It's not relieving.

**A/N: Is Marissa right? If so, who wins? That will all be explained next chapter!**

**Love it? Hate it? Tell me in reviews!**


	13. Chapter 13: A Long Night

**A/N: Hey! I'm back! I'm super excited for this chapter! Okay, so I left off at kind of a cliff-hangar last time with a question-like thingy, you know. Well, this chapter shall answer that question-like thingy! Also this chapter has cussing because while Marvel, unlike Cato, is a good boy, when he gets angry he isn't. **

**So, surprisingly, I have a really short Author's Note. **

**Hmph.**

**Check out IAmBeautifulBecauseOfMyFlaws (previously CallingMeFakeWontMakeYouReal)!**

**The chapter now, fellow Marvissa fans!:**

**Title: A Long Night  
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**POV: Marvel Gratte**

**You know where this starts! Right where the last chapter ended!**

We can't run forever. I'd love it if we could. But eventually Marissa and I have to turn back and fight. And if we go down, we're going down strong. That's the only option right now, so we must take it.

"Ready?" I ask her quietly as another of Clove's knives whizzes barely by us.

"No, but we have to now, don't we?" she says.

"Afraid so," I answer and make sure we armed. Then we turn around, stopping dead in our tracks. Clove and Cato are surprised. But Cato smiles. And Clove looks pissed.

"Cato, keep them running, please," she requests. "I like a moving target."

"Nah, you get the girl running, Clove. I like a target cowering on the ground in fear," he says. "So go on, District One. Cower on the ground in fear."

"In your wildest dreams I would, Cato, friend," I tell him, smiling for the audience like I have to do occasionally with Marissa—though she hates it—so the Capitol doesn't get bored and kill us off. "But we're not in your wildest dreams, are we, Cato, jackass?"

His eyebrows rise. "So, this is where you ran off to? Her? Ha. I knew it." He grins ominously. "Clove and I, we had a bet. If you ran off with her, I'd get to kill Katniss and she'd just get to kill Lover Boy. The _other_ Lover Boy, I guess. But if you ran off to kill Katniss, which we knew you'd fail at, I'd have to kill Lover Boy and she'd get Katniss."

"Nice," I snap. "And as much as love the gossip, Miss Long, I have a Game to get to."

"Mhm," Cato noises. "I see."

I look to the side to see both girls with their arms crossed, watching us. Marissa is watching Cato and Clove is watching me, as if to see when we are about to pounce on their guy so they can warn us. I wish Marissa would just kill her while she is not paying attention.

Cato is watching me as I look at the girls. I expect him to attack as soon I turn back, but he just stands there, no different than he was before. So what better time to raise my spear? And when I do, I throw it forward. Nowhere to jump, because we are densely surrounded my trees, Cato ducks and I take my other spear as the girls start to brawl, too.

I use the spear as sort of a sword, so I'm glad it's strong. Cato hits my "sword" with his and then ducks at mine. He's such a skilled swordsman that I, even in my anger for him, might call him graceful in the skill. It annoys me.

"Marvel, Marvel," says Clove mockingly behind us. I stay focused on Cato, but listen to Clove, who has to be at least four yards away. But she has a loud mouth. "Call for him, Foxface. 'Help, Marvel, help!' Go on. Do it. I dare you." When she doesn't call for me, Clove continues. "He wouldn't come anyway. His life is more important, dear, than yours is to him."

I duck from Cato's sword. I take my spear and stay away from his sword.

_Marissa is smart,_ I tell myself. _She can do this. If she needs help, she'll call for you._

The evil comments Clove makes are starting to get to me. Then there's a scream and Clove shuts up. But no cannon. And the sound of two knives clinging together and the sounds of them doing hand-to-hand combat relieves me. Marissa's alive.

"Face it," Cato snarls, his lips actually parted like a rabid wolf's. "Neither of you can win. It's not what you do. I will win this, because it's what I do. I bring pride to my district, and so… I kill."

"Please," I growl back. He has no idea how much I just want to stick this spear in his stomach. But, honestly, he's faster than me. The only thing I can do is straighten up and pretend as if I'm fencing with the special swords I am not sure have a special name for. The skinny ones. It's the only type of sword-fighting I am relatively good at. I just need a straight shot at the heart. "Shall we fence?"

He shrugs. "Let's."

**POV: Cato Long **

**(Will it be his last POV? Will he watch Clove die? Will he watch as Marvel kneels at Marissa's feet as she dies? So many questions and it all lies in the fate of my fingertips.)**

I shrug. "Let's."

Marvel and I begin the stupid fencing. The only reason I agreed was for the Capitol. The smirk on his face is increasing, though I don't know why. He's losing by far. But he's an idiot.

"Why don't you just give up so I can't get you over with quicker?" he says.

"Sure," I sarcastically agree, bringing the sword down. The only way I'm leaving this fight is if he's dead or Clove's in trouble. And with her only competition being the weakling from Five, I'm not too worried about Clove Laine.

"Cato!" The latter was fulfilled. That's the worst one. "Cato, help!"

But it's not Foxface that has her screaming. It's Katniss Everdeen.

I push Marvel down, take his spear, and throw it at Katniss. She misses. I pin Foxface down, my knee in her stomach. Her face is purple very quick. "Give me the knife and you're off all day," I lie. "I swear to it. You're off all day, and so is your boyfriend. All you have to do is give me the knife…"

She spits in my face and my elbow goes into her windpipe. She makes the most sickening noise ever, even to me, and her knife falls from her hand. I take it and run for Katniss. Lover Boy is sure to be around, but I can take him.

He's Clove's kill anyway.

"Cato, please!" Clove screams.

"Coming, Clove!"

Then in a small clearing is where it will all play through. Peeta has Clove pinned down and Katniss has her bow positioned to kill Clove. Peeta is stronger Clove. Clove is deadlier and could kill him easily if he didn't have her pinned down. But he does.

Who cares if he's Clove's kill? I run to him, and, as Katniss tells him to get out of the way, lodge the knife in his back.

"Peeta!" Katniss screeches as I fall to Clove's feet. No cannon have sounded for Peeta, but I could care less right now. Any other time I'd go back and make a show of it. But not now.

"Clove, did they hurt you?" I ask frantically.

"No," she answers, taking out a knife as I help her up. Then she turns and a knife plants itself in Peeta's stomach.

**POV: Peeta Mellark**

"Go," I tell Katniss. "Now, Katniss. Go before they kill you, too."

I think I actually see real tears. We had a chance to go home, and it ended. We never should have gone to the feast. We would've eventually gotten a bow and food from sponsors. If we would have stayed, we both might've won.

"Not without you," she says, making a choke-sobbing sound. "I'll pull you to the cave and fix you up, Peeta."

"Not now, Katniss," I respond.

It hurts to take a breath, or really a breath at all. I try to just hold my breath for a while, but then it hurts more. My back is sending aches up and down the spinal cord crazily and my head feels like blood is rushing to it like it does when you hang upside-down.

Katniss drags me anyway, but not far before she has to stop to shoot an arrow at Cato, which misses. It's her last choice to get away.

"Go."

But she doesn't. She sits down and kisses me, her bow still in her hand and loaded.

I never thought our last kiss would be in the arena.

**POV: Back to Marvel Gratte until the next person dies **

**(I feel like I should cover each death.)**

A cannon sounds for Peeta, I think.

"We have to go now, Marvel," Marissa says worriedly. I try to kiss her but she pushes me away. "No. We have to go. There is no time for other things, Marvel."

"Okay, then, let's go," I say.

We run back to our place, not bothering to cover our steps, but letting the District Seven-smelling pine needles do that. For the longest of time I hear nothing except our footsteps. And then another cannon sounds. I hope it was a Career. Because if it was Katniss, then Clove and Cato are coming. But if it was ao or Clove, then the final two can obliterate the fuck out of each other at the same time.

**POV: Clove Laine**

The arrow pierces my heart. Cato drags me into the encasement of a tree and kisses me.

"I was going to propose," he whispers. "I was going to make you Clove Long the minute we stepped off the train in District Two."

I can tell how tight he clenches his teeth. It looks painful. His fists are just as tight and his expression is so furious that I think he might scream. I could scream at the bitch from Twelve that killed me, too. How pitiful! To go down to _her_! I feel like I've dishonored my district. And my Cato.

"I would have said yes," I say to him. He kisses me, and buries his face in my hair. Then he stands up, his face angered—no, _furious_—and takes my knives. He walks away as the cannon sounds.

**POV: Marvel Gratte**

**(That's it; I promise! No more interruptions!)**

Night starts to fall and the Anthem plays above. I look up and see Clove's face in the sky. Then Peeta's face flashes across and the darkness reappears to out little cave hideout.

"I'm sorry for killing him," I apologize.

I turn to her and see she is studying me. About as soon as my head is fully facing her, her hands are pulling my head into hers as our lips connect. A parachute or something floats down, but we could care less. I wrap my arms tighter around her and we fall to the cave floor, entangled in each other as we kiss.

We idly talk a little bit, too, and she cries into my shirt because she almost lost me today, not because she almost died herself today, and then we kiss more. Then we fall asleep for half an hour. Then we wake up and it's obvious after we won't go back to sleep.

"Want to go hunting?" I ask Marissa.

"No!" she exclaims, backing away.

"For animals, not tributes," I say.

"Oh… sure, then," she answers. Then we remember the parachute and she opens it. "It's another spear and a knife."

"Oh, goody," I say under my breath and she laughs.

I'm so miserably tired but I can't sleep. Not after today. So we go hunting, and it's obvious it's going to be a long night.

**A/N: Got the chapter up! Yay! Well, here's a hint: The arena will end on Day Ten. If you want to, tell me who _YOU_ think will win along with your opinion of the chapter in reviews!**


	14. Chapter 14: The Diamond and the Flame

**A/N: Okay, I'm back with a chapter once more.**

**Will today be the day? No. Day Ten will be the day. But... will Marvel live today? Will Marissa? Katniss? Cato? **

**I am now accepting title suggestions for my next book of this series. But you don't know who wins (I do!) so you can't really guess. I'd prefer if it had to do with diamonds and flames. You'll know why today.**

**This will be an extremely short chapter, but I'm in Arkansas on a short vacation. What do you expect?**

**Check out IAmBeautifulBecauseOfMyFlaws. She's amazing and is a fantastical (it's a real word!) author. So check her stories out!**

**Title: The Diamond and the Flame**

**POV: Marissa Markison**

**Day Eight, right where the last chapter ended, and around... oh, let's say ten**

****Marvel snaps around, hearing a twig. "Just a rabbit," I assure him, seeing a fat one come to us. He spears it and smiles at his accomplishment, holding the dead animal up when he takes out the spear. "Very nice, very nice."

"Thank you, sarcastic," he says, smiling.

"Your welcome, obnoxious," I shoot back playfully. "What now? And don't say light a fire. I'm too tired and still a bit shaken from earlier-I will admit-to fight off Cato or Katniss."

"Katniss won't come to a fire," Marvel says. "She's not the type to pick a fight, either. I can tell."

"Fine. Then I'd rather not fight Cato," I tell him, taking my knife from the ground. "There's hot coals by the river."

Marvel snaps to me. "There is?"

"From Katniss and Peeta or Thresh, I bet," I tell him casually. Katniss is long gone from the hideout. She isn't going to come back. Not to the same place she was. She's going to go to places of the arena she's never been so as to throw Cato off. At least, that's what I'd do, and I guess-if she's smart enough to figure it out-she'll do the same. And Thresh is dead. And he came from the opposite side of the Cornucopia. And Peeta is dead. So Peeta's death is another reason for Katniss not to return here. I wouldn't want to return to the exact place I had spent nights and nights with Marvel if he was dead. It would hurt too much. "They aren't coming back, Marvel. Trust me."

"We're not going back," he says.

"Our stuff is all there!" I protest.

"Yes, the other spears. We_ so_ need those," he spits. "Marissa, it's unsafe for you.

"For me?" I snap. "If you aren't aware, I made it far enough without you! I would still be alive without you!"

I hate it when he underestimates me, especially after times like this. After times like the feast. I practically saved him back there, and now he's trying to protect me from a depressed archer? If she comes, tears will probably be in her eyes so overwhelmingly for her that she can't shoot straight. Times like this I really wish he'd just let me be in charge like he promised so I could really show him just what I can do and how much better at certain things than he is. I bet if it weren't for me a couple times, he'd have died! And if it weren't for him, I wouldn't have gotten into the dangerous situations he saved me from!

But I know I can't think like that. Marvel and I are one another's half to the whole now.

But then again, we just met. And when we did, it was training to kill each other. Trust is still a small issue for me. Maybe not for him, but for me, I'll confirm it here and now. And what I really regret about that is the fact that I'll never be able to fix it. We'll be parted forever before I can.

"Then go," he says, interrupting my thoughts.

Stunned. That's the first feeling that comes up. I'm shocked, stunned, bewildered. Then betrayal and hate. Then regret once more. But what comes out is the feeling of hate. Hate is-out of all the feelings that arose when he said that-what shows itself. Luckily, though, before I can say anything, he starts to talk again.

"Just go. Just go if I caused you a million years of trouble, because, Marissa, I'm not something to hold you back from going off," he explains coldly. Never has his black eyes looked so freezing cold, as if they were a cold white, not a warm black.

"I'm not leaving!" I snap defensively. But I don't mean to be so cold, so hostile, so closed. I just want him to realize that I can do more than steal a loaf of bread. And he probably thinks that if I try to, I'll get caught and killed.

Really, it's not just him, but the whole country that I want to prove wrong.

And really, it's not him I'm angry with, but the Capitol.

I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him. "Sorry, okay? I know I'm being rude tonight, alright? Just don't tell me to leaving, okay, Marvel?"

"That whole string of sentences was each needlessly a string of questions," he says. I kiss him again. "To the cave?"

"Oh, no!" I say in a sarcastic voice. "We can't! The coals! They'll turn into Katniss and shoot us with her magic powers of archery and shape-shifting!"

"Are you _mockingjaying_ me?" he asks in a ridiculous, high-pitched, squeaky voice that isn't even like any Capitol accent I've ever heard. Then, in his regular voice, he says, "Like mocking? And mockingjay? Get it? It was a good one, right?"

It surprises me how quickly he can go from such a serious attitude to a fun, giddy-like attitude. Honestly, for lack of better term, a _Marvel-like_ attitude.

"Yes, I get it," I say. We start to walk back to the cave, laughing quietly all the way, so as to not attract an insane maniac who has just lost his girlfriend or a depressed archer that is just trying to stay away from the maniac. Also known as Cato and Katniss. Though Marvel is, I am not in the mood-nor am I ready-to be in a battle of any sorts tonight. Tonight may be the only night I actually get to fully relax in the arena. And I want to relax.

So when we return to the cave once more and lie down like we did earlier, so tired we could burst at one mildly wrong comment, I lay my head in his arm and breathe, glad to be safe with Marvel for one more night at the least. But that's just at the least.

His head buries itself in my neck as he kisses it and his lips brush across my hair and chin. He combs my hair gently with his fingers and declares that he's washing my hair tomorrow in the stream if we have time. His fingers caress my cheek. I lie there, waiting for tiredness to take me over completely and pull me under. I wait to relive how Marvel almost died over and over again. I wait for something to take me away from this arena, even if to somewhere far worse. And what does take me away surprises me. His voice-of all things-is what takes me away.

"Don't leave yet, my flame," he says.

It slips out of my mouth when I say, "I won't go." He's my diamond. "My diamond."

I turn to face him and he does the same. We kiss for a long time, over and over. And it hurts to think that this is a luxury, not something I can just keep. Of course, every kiss you share with your loved one is a luxury, because tomorrow may not exist. Not for you, or not for them, maybe. But others. Others outside the arena. They can certainly take a bit more advantage of their loved one's kisses because they aren't _dead_ certain that one of them will die very, _very_ soon.

I drift off to sleep, and I don't want to, for I want to stay with my diamond for as long as possible, and sleep only takes that away from us.

It hurts how much I love him. And still don't have time to learn how to completely trust him.

It hurts how much of a perfect diamond he is, while I am nothing more than a flickering flame.

**A\N: Do I write better in Arkansas? I genuinely am curious of that fact... so... tell me in reviews?**

**Also, please give title suggestions if you think of any. It's not required, but will be appreciated very much, and you can suggest as many as you like... as long as they involve something along the lines of diamonds and flames. **

**Check out IAmBeautifulBecauseOfMyFlaws!**


	15. Chapter 15: Knife In Hand

**A/N: I have to ask: Who all likes Cato/Katniss? **

**Okay, I'm finally at my own computer again! I was in Arkansas, as I've said.**

**I've gotten some really, really good titles! I'll have a poll up soon.**

**So many have requested for Marvel to win. Good?**

**Also, Marvel's "unbreakable"-ness was suggested by whiteleg25. **

**So… check out IAmBeautifulBecauseOfMyFlaws! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games. If I did, I wouldn't be writing this, now, would I?**

**R&R!**

**Title: Knife In Hand  
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**POV: Marvel Gratte**

**Day Nine**

"Beryl Gratte!" trills Amemelia Troknee, and suddenly she hasn't just sent off another tribute to die, but my _sister_. No one volunteers, either. I'm about to go insane. I can't lose Glimmer, Marissa, and then Beryl, too! But Marissa… I guess she was my fault, since I couldn't save her.

Beryl shakes hands with the male tribute. Which is Obsidian. Obsidian. Twelve-year-old Obsidian and eighteen-year-old Beryl. They are about to fight to the death. It's unbearable, but I'm numb, like my body's blocked out the pain of their probable deaths.

Suddenly I'm in the arena again, looking at the dying Marissa as Katniss holds me down and Cato cuts her. "I had to," she whispers. "He made me." Then she raises her voice. "And now we're killing you, Marvel, and your pretty little girl over there!"

In the back of my mind as I'm reliving this memory, I can hear my science teacher, Mrs. Arbor, speaking, and saying, "Diamonds are the strongest known minerals."

Then Marissa's voice is in my head, willing me to go on as I watch my siblings being forced into the very Game that tore me apart and sends evil tortures to my dreams every night. Marissa says, "Therefore, Marvel, since you are my diamond, you are unbreakable."

"Marissa, save them somehow," I whisper, and hope no one on the reaping stage can hear me.

"I can't. Marvel. Marvel. Marvel."

"Marvel, wake up!" My head shoots straight up, and as soon as I see that it was a dream, that she is alive, that Beryl and Obsidian weren't about to go into the Games, I kiss her. My arms go around her waste and pull her closer to me as we kiss. I think a parachute might come down, but I don't know.

We pull away and see that there actually is a parachute. In it is four cheese rolls. I give one to Marissa and take on for myself, sparing the other two for later.

"You were asking me to save someone, over and over," Marissa says. "It scared me for a second."

"I'm sorry. Beryl and Obsidian were dying, and you were telling me I was unbreakable as my science teacher gave us a minerals lesson," I explain.

She smiles. "If I had that dream I'd be laughing."

"You just had to have it to understand," I say. Then I scoot close to her, kiss her, and put my hand on top of hers. Before she can understand, I take her cheese bread—what's left of it, because while I've finished mine, she still has half of hers—and take a large bite in it. I laugh as I finish hers off and she pretends to get angry. "Come on. We… they'll _drag_ us together if we don't find one of them."

She nods. "Crossing my fingers for Katniss."

"I was thinking we could go to the Cornucopia," I tell her tentatively. She looks me straight in the eyes. Her eyes look horribly grim, like a rainy day. Like a fire burning out. "I won't let anything happen to you, my flame."

Trumpets blaze. Claudius Templesmith's voice booms over the arena as he says, "Since there are no pairs left, the previous rule change has been revoked. Only one may win. Sorry for the delay in announcing so. Congratulations to those of you who are left! May the odds be _ever_ in your favor!"

"Not the announcement I wanted to hear," I say. Marissa nods.

We start to head off, Marissa's knife in her hand, and my three spears in my hand. We go for a long time. It's been a few hours when I twig snaps and Marissa is instinctively running to a tree. She scrambles up and I do the same in the adjacent tree. Cato comes into view, his eyes insane when I catch a glimpse of them. His hair is bloody and his arm has a slash in it.

He and Katniss have fought.

"I saw you come this way, Katniss," he says insanely. "Don't hide. With that bow, you can kill me, remember? Come on out, Girl on Fire."

He continues to walk forward slowly. Suddenly a fire catches ablaze ahead of us a bit. He starts to run as fast as possible, too insane to realize this must be a trap. He must really be out of his mind to fall for it.

Once I am absolutely, _absolutely_ sure he's not coming back, I climb down from my tree. I scramble up the tree Marissa's in.

"Don't come as high as I am, Marvel," she whispers. "The branch will snap under you, and I'm high enough you'll at least break something."

"Then come down," I whisper back. She climbs down and there's a leaf in her auburn hair. I pull it out gently and let it drift to the ground. "We should stay up here. At least for a couple hours. Then we go to the Cornucopia. I think Katniss is setting a trap up for Cato. She can set it, we can kill her after she does, and then…"

I've never actually gotten far enough to know what happens after "and then." Have Marissa kill me, I guess. Wait until mutts do it so she doesn't have to maybe.

Tired because of my nightmare, I fall asleep, face in her hair. When she wakes me up, it's early afternoon, I can tell. She runs a hand through my hair and says, "I love how your hair isn't dirty blonde, blonde, or brown. It's different, like you."

"Like me, my flame?" I ask her.

"Yes." She pauses. "My unbreakable diamond." I smile at her comment and refrain from laughing, for we could be being watched this very moment. Her smiles disappears suddenly. She informs me, "Katniss just ran through here a half-hour ago after a fire at least three miles away sparked up. It was a few hours after the fire that she came. I figure we should go to the Cornucopia now."

"Yes, we should," I agree, and we both hop from the tree, her first, then me.

We jog to the Cornucopia. By the time we are half way after a half-hour, I can tell that Katniss was really hurt, because she's just ahead of us. She doesn't notice us. She just keeps running. I pull Marissa back, covering her mouth because she didn't realize Katniss was there. I spin her around so she knows it's just me, not Cato.

Katniss continues to run. Marissa and I, staying close to the trees, follow her at a walking pace. Silent. At least a whole boring hour later, Marissa and I go through the foliage and to the other clearing on the other side of the trees. We hide in a bush in view of the Cornucopia. Katniss looks around, trying to see if Cato's made it here or not yet. Since he hasn't, she positions an arrow on her bow and looks at Cato's large mound of supplies that keeps him alive. She shoots. A tear is made in an apple bag. She shoots again. An apple rolls out. She shoots one more time…

"Marissa!" I yell over the explosion, but it's too loud. She can't hear me. I push her towards the back of the bush and hug her, enveloping her to protect her. Debris hits me brutally, several sharp items finding their way to me. A piece of glass lodges itself in my shoulder, and I cry out in pain. I wonder why there was glass in the pile in the first place.

But there's no time to think as Cato runs through the clearing after I turn around because the explosion's stopped. He rips some of his hair out, falls to the ground, beats the ground, and screams such obscenities at Katniss Everdeen. Katniss, who landed on her ear and mustn't be able to hear, walks backwards and Cato grabs hold of her braid and yanks her to the ground. He pins her down, his knee in her stomach. He pushes the sword into her heart and kicks her body as the cannon roars. He picks up the carcass and throws it into the ruins of the pile of his and my former supplies. He has no weapon now, as his sword is now bent. He goes to the forest and the hovercraft picks Katniss up.

"We have to," I whisper.

"We do," Marissa whisper-agrees.

We leave the protection of the shrubbery and Cato immediately rams me to the ground and takes two of my three spears. Marissa takes her knife and shoves it in his arm. She, with her fists much too tiny to do so, punches him squarely in the nose and takes her knife as I scramble to my feet. _She's distracting him from me,_ I think.

I take my spear and chuck it at the unsuspecting, furious Cato. He sees it, ducks away, and throws a spear. I dodge it and run after it. Before I even reach it, everything is pitch-black. There's a howl in the moonlight. Because of the moonlight, I can see a wolf. A medium-sized one in front. With brown fur and unmistakably gray eyes and on the tag I can see it says _12_, as it's only a yard away from me, but doesn't see me. I think back to science class again.

_"It only takes five minutes for the Capitol to create a mutt."_

Beside it is another wolf with blonde fur and blue eyes. On the tag I can't mistake the _12_ again.

The eyes look exactly like Peeta's and Katniss's.

I wonder why they're only sending in wolfs that are mixed with Katniss and Peeta. It's not like we're most afraid of those tributes.

Peeta howls behind him and several other howls call back. The first wolf that comes up has beautiful, glossy blonde fur and gorgeous, District One green eyes, and on the tag it says _1_.

Rage builds up inside me. I can't believe they did this to Glimmer. I wonder how angry Cato will be when he sees Clove's wolf.

That's when the first mutt jumps. It's Glimmer that does so and right for Cato, even though Marissa is closer. _Does the wolf know that Cato betrayed her when she was human?_ It must.

Marissa runs to me while she can, and I take the spear and throw it at the large, large, dark brown-furred wolf with dark brown eyes that has _11_ on its collar. It really must know that I betrayed its former self. It goes down quick, though.

I take my spear as the tiny one that looks exactly like Thresh's, but smaller, wanders around until it sees me, and darts to me. Fast; just like that little girl was. I have to spear it, too.

The next one comes too quick for me to get my spear to kill it. It has dark red-brown hair and brown eyes. "Marissa, is that the guy from your district?"

Marissa looks at the wolf in front of me. "Oh! Zeke! That's Zeke!"

It jumps, but I flatten to the ground and it jumps over me. I retrieve my spear and stick it in him like a sword. I draw it out and tell Marissa to run to a tree until I call for her.

"No, Marvel, I'm not leaving." She shakes her head furiously.

"I'm unbreakable, remember? Now hurry," I order, shoving her slightly. She looks back at me just before scrambling up a tree.

I run to the Cornucopia, where Cato is, my spear still in hand.

"Listen," I hear him say. I turn to face him. "Listen, let's make a deal, dude. We kill the mutts and I kill her so you don't have to, and then just see who can survive the longest afterwards."

His hand is outstretched. "No hard feelings," he says.

I shake his hand. He smiles sadistically. I do, too.

And then I shove the spear into his gut.

A cannon roars as he falls down. I shove the muscular blonde boy off the Cornucopia and the mutts feast on his dead flesh as the hovercraft comes down and picks him up, along with the Clove mutt and the Katniss mutt, because they were in the way.

Marissa and I are a field apart, both weaponless, with muttations that are trying to kill us in the way of us reaching each other.

That's when the mutts start to climb.

The only thing I can do is jump off the Cornucopia. So I do, and run as fast as possible. I pick up the two other spears on my way and spear the two mutts closest to me: Peeta and the District Four girl. I take my swords back and run to Marissa's tree as Glimmer takes a bite of my skin. I spear her face and take my spear back, running to Marissa. She climbs down, but I tell her to climb back up.

The Katniss and Clove mutts are released again, and a big blonde one with furious, icy blue eyes and a _2_ on its tag are released, too. I spear Katniss and the District Seven girl. Then take my spears. District Eight girl and boy. District Ten boy and District Six girl.

Only ten mutts are left alive. Cato jumps on me as a large limb falls on him, get him away from me. I look up to see that Marissa has her knife and sawed the branch.

Well, the Cato mutt worked fast, as I now have a large wound on my thigh where Glimmer got me and the rest on my shoulder, mid-back, other thigh, and foot from Cato. I then realize that the Clove mutt helped him, and was crushed to death, too.

There's a loud beeping in the woods and the mutts retreat to it. Trumpets roar and Claudius Templesmith starts to talk.

_We won_, I think. _I can have my flame forever._

"Congratulations to the remaining two tributes. Please begin to fight to the death now, or both of you will be blown up immediately. Good luck and may the odds be _ever _in your favor."

Marissa comes down, her knife in hand.

**A/N: Ha! How did you like that? Didn't expect it at all, did you? No! And… cliff-hangar! **

**_Will_ Marissa kill Marvel? _Will_ they be blown sky-high? _Will_ Marvel fight back if Marissa attacks? _Will_ they find an alternative? _Will_ the Capitol expect the alternative if they find an alternative? _Will_ they die together in each other's arms?**

**_Will there be a victor?_**

**If not:**

**_Whose POV will I switch the rest of the series to?_**

**Read the next chapter so you know the answer to all these questions.**

**Also, did you notice I lied? I said "Day Ten was the day" before, but honestly, that was before I cam up with this idea. **

**Review so I update soon?**


	16. Chapter 16: Once a Tribute

**A/N: So. Who do _you_ want to win: Marissa or Marvel? **

**Because after today, it won't matter, for they'll have already won.**

**Or will they have both died?**

**Title: Once a Tribute, Always a Victor**

**POV: Marissa Markison**

**Right when the mutts left; just before the last _announcement._**

"Congratulations to the remaining two tributes. Please begin to fight to the death now, or both of you will be blown up immediately. Good luck and may the odds be _ever _in your favor."

I jump down from the low branch in the tree, my knife in my hand. Marvel, utterly confused, grasps his spears. I drop my knife and throw myself in his arms, smashing my lips against his, and throwing my arms around his neck tightly. I will not let go of him, ever. I don't care if we're blown up to the point where there's not even a speck of us to bury afterwards.

I wouldn't blame him at all, though, if he needed to get back to his falling-apart family.

But he holds me tighter than I hold him, and kisses me back. Against my lips, he whispers, "Let them blow us up."

"Please begin to fight to the death now, or both of you will be blown up immediately," Claudius booms rather angrily.

We sink to the ground.

_They won't do it,_ I think. _They have to get their victor._

But that's not the case. There's a loud boom, and I see the whole arena is starting to burst. Just a little at a time. It's starting in the boy from Eleven's hideout.

"We have to run," I say aloud.

But he pulls me down and whispers something in my ear. I nod andfind my knife. Holding it to my heart, I stare at Marvel with his spear to his heart. "On five, my flame?" he suggests.

"On five, my diamond," I whisper.

"One." The Cornucopia has just burst. "Two." What once were the Careers' supplies spot that Katniss blows up bursts more. "Three." Mutts' bodies fly. If we keep this pace between the numbers, one of us will be blown apart. "Four." Fire surrounds us. There's nowhere to run if they do decide to blow one of us up. "Ready?" I nod. "Five."

All I see is red. Red blood. Red fire. Red hair. Red eyes. Red skin. Red skies, trees, and grass. Red Marvels, Catos, Cloves, Glimmers, Katniss's, Peetas, Zekes, and red me's.

"Stop!" Claudius is frantic. "Stop! May I present you the victor of the Seventy-Forth Annual Hunger Games; Marissa Markison of District Five!" I wait the longest of times for something else to be said. Anything, really. Any indication of Marvel's condition; whether he is dead or alive. I wait for a cannon or for a "and Marvel Gratte of District One!" but nothing comes. I begin to panic, and look over to see Marvel has his spear lying next to him in his hand, not in his chest. _So why isn't Claudius announcing him, too? _

Before I can know, I am placed on the ladder and knocked out.

**_~;~ ~;~ ~;~_**

"I'm here. It's okay. It's okay. I'm alive," whispers a voice. "It's okay." It's Marvel's voice. Opening my eyes, I see that I'm looking straight into the icy, cold, blue stare of Cato, only with Marvel's voice.

My eyes snap open and I see that I'm in a white room. Tubes are connected to me everywhere, and a lunch is next to me.

_Marvel,_ I think, happy to see him soon.

But it hits me hard. I won't see him. Ever again. I left him, lying dead in a pit of death and fire, all alone, never again to be spoken to; to be kissed by; to be loved by. I miss him so much it hurts. My heart hurts.

Diamonds aren't unbreakable, after all.

I try to sit up. I try to get out of the bed. I try to rip away the tubes. I can't just lie here as people around the country grieve for twenty-four dead children. Zeke and the District Eleven girl—Rue, as Clove called her. They were only twelve. So pure, so innocent, and had barely even started to live. Now dead.

Katniss. A true fire. A spark. A big sister. Somewhere out there, another tiny little Everdeen girl is crying because her sister is gone.

Peeta. He died thinking Katniss was going to win. He will never know the love of his life is gone. Forever.

District Eleven boy. I saw what he did to Clove for that little girl. So strong and perfect. What he wanted was justice for Rue. For Panem, I'm sure.

Rue. So sweet, having barely started a life, and then killed.

I feel bad that I don't know anyone from the rest of the districts up to Zeke, who I know not a lot about except for that he was so incredibly young.

Again, I feel bad I know no one else up to Clove. She was a beast, but she had a family, friends, and a love.

Then there's Cato. I have nothing much to say for him except for what I said of Clove. I saw the way he looked at that girl.

Then there's Glimmer. Marvel's best friend. How bad can she be, if she was _Marvel's_ friend?

And Marvel. I have so much to say for him that I could think of it all for hours and hours on end. Besides, I can't bear to think of him. It would hurt all too much. I loved my diamond so…

I start to scream. That's all I can do is scream. Scream for him. That's all I want to do is scream. Scream for them all. All of the nameless, meaningless tributes. I scream for them. I scream for my "unbreakable" diamond.

Eventually something knocks me out after a long, endless scream. When I wake up again, fewer tubes are connected to me and the same lunch is there. I can sit up. So, I do. I eat my lunch and scream until they knock me back out again.

This time when I wake up, I'm not in a hospital gown, but my arena clothes. And no tubes are on me, so I get up; walk around; stretch.

I realize that the door's open and run out of the room, seeking the people I oddly, actually miss. And lo and behold, there they are, beaming at me. Ema's actually been crying. Sally's looking at me like I've made her the proudest person in the world. And Callon? He looks like he's sizing me up.

I run to where they stand and hug Ema. She hugs me back and cries harder. When I pull away, I see her lavender Capitol mascara is smeared. _Lavender; just like back in training._

Then I hug Sally, who congratulates me, and Callon, who says, "What're we going to do with you? I guess we can put you in a flame-like dress because of Marvel…"

"No," I snap, pulling away from his hug. "No, that was Katniss's. Put me in something like my interview dress, please."

"Dear, dear, calm down," Callon says, laughing. "I was only joking. That _dead_ girl basically has the synthetic stuff trademarked. People might _egg_ you, darling, if you show up in that. No, no, no. Can't do that"—here he laughs—"for how lovely would it be if the newest victor was egged? Horrible, huh?"

I nod numbly, thinking about how it would be if Marvel had won, too. He could be clothed in diamonds and me in red, and we could be the diamond flame. It hurts me too much to think about it. "Terrible," I croak.

The next hour is a blur between being prepared for seeing the recap and pain of thinking of Marvel's dead body. Callon and my prep team—made up of Solosee Masron, Kwix Mrils, and Lolosnollo Porpelldose—dress me in a bright purple dress that ruffles at the middle and bottom, is tightly joined at the waist, and reaches my knees. My hair is in ringlets, like fire. My makeup is purple and red. My boots are heeled and black. The gloves are a dazzling mix of orange, black, purple, and red.

I am taken to a room with sawdust on the floor. I step on the platform and shiver, thinking back to just before the arena. I hear Caesar Flickerman introduce the show and then I begin to rise.

The best surprise I've ever had is waiting for me on the stage. There, just before me, is the real, alive, truly unbreakable diamond.

There, just before me, is Marvel Gratte.

I sit delicately on the loveseat and smile for the crowd. But before Caesar can say a word, I kiss Marvel and hope with everything I am that this isn't a dream. That Marvel _is_ alive. Marvel kisses me back and smiles.

When we pull apart and turn to Caesar, we see him beaming at us. "Well, magnificent! Aren't you two just adorable? I must say before we watch the recap: I died. I really died when you two got together, and then the announcement came. Surely at first you thought you could both win, and then you couldn't. But you did! It's magnificent, truly. And the diamond flame nicknames? I died once more. Well, congratulations Marissa and Marvel!"

"Oh, thank you," Marvel says charmingly. "I died a bit, too, during the announcement. Losing her is like losing the world."

"Now that's magnificent." He pauses. "I'm sorry; am I using that word too much? Oh well. One more thing, though. Marissa, what did you think… of the announcement?"

"Oh, Caesar. Like we all did. I died"—I laugh lightly—"because I couldn't lose him. That's why it hurt so much when I won."

Caesar looks confused. "What?"

"I think that's a story for tomorrow. We have to have some surprises even though the Games are done, don't we?" I say.

"Yes, dear, I guess we do. Well, the recaps!" Caesar roars. I look over the crowd and see many anxious faces. I take Marvel's hand and bury my face in his neck before turning to the screen to watch the recaps.

Reapings. One-by-one. I learn the names of the dead in a flash of time because we only have three hours.

Suddenly the atmosphere of the Games change. I remember that each recap tells a story—one of maybe triumph, drama, pain, or tragedy. This is definitely the first year it tells a story of love.

The chariots focus mainly on our districts, and zoom in on us. It shows Cato and Clove and Katniss and Peeta and the rest, too. Even the sight of gladiator Cato makes my heart hurt. Then we move onto training scores. Interviews. The Games. It, thankfully, skips the part where the branch almost killed me. Things go by really quick. Until Marvel finds me. Then things slow down; go in slow motion of our first kiss. Music flies in the air when we give the nicknames. And in the end, the last thing shows us, willing to kill each other if it means we get to stay together one way or another. And I realize tracker jackers came. That's why I thought Marvel was dead.

Then President Snow comes and crowns us. Two golden crowns. The first he places on my head with an encouraging smile. "Congratulations, dear. I hope you have a lovely life with your fellow victor," he says, and it takes me aback.

"Thank you," I say, not showing my surprise.

He crowns Marvel and I—being quite the observant person, if I may say so myself—see the way he stares into that boy's eyes. We've done something wrong. The president stares into Marvel's eyes like a law-enforcer would do to a criminal.

"We'll see you all soon at the victor interviews tomorrow! Tune in and may the odds be _ever_ in your favor!"

We're taken back to our old tribute rooms. Except Marvel and his team are on my floor. He is offered his own room—what once was Zeke's—but refuses and stays in my room, staring at me from the other side of the room in a small chair. I think he falls asleep like that.

The next morning we are separated and put into the same clothes but different colors. Instead of purple I get emerald green. Marvel's suit is white instead of silver. Caesar gets right down to business, as we have no audience except for the camera people for him to please.

"Marissa. Before I ask any questions, tell me the story from yesterday. Please, I'm begging. We all are," he says.

"Okay," I agree. "Those tracker jackers that came—I didn't know. I was so out of it that I only heard my name, and was hallucinating that Marvel was lying on the ground, dead. I thought he was dead."

"How long was it before you knew?" Caesar asks.

"Until I saw him onstage yesterday," I answer. I look over at my diamond. "It hurt so much."

"I believe that it did," Caesar tells me thoughtfully. "Now, Marvel, when did you realize you loved her and how?"

Marvel smiles at me. "In training, when I said I would never return to the Careers whether I had an alliance or not, she started to trust me. We trained and trained together every day. But then I returned to the Careers. I don't know why. Cato asked me if I was back in again, and I said yes. She was watching me. The moment I saw how betrayed she looked, I knew I loved her."

"And you, Marissa?" Caesar asks carefully. I think for a moment how to put this. There's no really good way to say it, so I decide to just spit out the words that first come to my mind, which are true, but not very well-put in my opinion. "Marissa?"

"Oh, sorry, I didn't hear you," I lie. "Well, he was holding me because I had a nightmare, I believe, and the way he held me like he'd never let me go even if it meant his life dawned on me. The way he held me like he never wanted anything more made me realize he wasn't just pretending. That he was more than a vicious, former Career. And I guess that was the only reason why I didn't love him from the moment I met my blonde Career boy." I pause, thinking over what I've said, and nodding. Then I add, "My diamond, as I now like to call him."

"I love you, too, my flame," Marvel whispers in my ear. I smile and kiss him.

"I think we'd all like to know what you were thinking when you two decide the double-suicide. I admit, all I was thinking was, 'Oh, dear, are the mutts going to come back?'"

I think he would have rather liked it if the mutts came back.

"I couldn't dream of a world where she would go on without me, where someone else would share her warmth. And I couldn't dream of a world without her," Marvel breathes, keeping his eyes on me. I bury my face in his lap because I might cry. I can't do that on television.

Eventually I come out and answer. "I was wondering if he was crazy at first. But then I saw the fire coming and I had to." That's a lie, for I wasn't really thinking anything at all.

"I see. Well, let's take this to a lighter note! How will you two work this out? You live in different districts!" exclaims Caesar.

"I'll move," Marvel chimes. "I'll move wherever Marissa goes."

"No, Marvel," I whisper. "No…"

"But why ever not?" Caesar asks.

He's clueless. What does he think; that we have no family; just each other? I know very well that Marvel has a mother and two young siblings! And I have a father and three siblings! Or does he just expect for us to never miss anyone on the planet except each other? Either way he's clueless.

"I just—I don't think—and I won't…"

"She doesn't want me to go to such troubles," Marvel finishes for me. I nod.

"Okay. Well! Best of luck to you two!"

And we're taken to the train, lost forever in the world of being a victor.

You're only a tribute once, but you're always a victor. I still haven't been a victor long enough to know which I like more.

**A/N: So, what did you think? Did you expect for both of them to win? What did you think when Marissa thought only she won? What do you expect for the future?**

**REVIEW!**

**Don't worry; this is _not _the end of Book 1. I still have two-four more chapters up my sleeve!**

**Also: Thanks! I have sixty-eight reviews! Let's make it eight today if we can, okay?  
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	17. Chapter 17: Counting Down the Hours

**A/N: I'm back!**

**Title: Counting Down the Hours**

**POV: Marvel Gratte**

**Going back home for Marvel.**

Marissa curls up underneath the covers as I watch her with her delicate red hair and sly red eyes. She's so empty in knowing that twenty-two people are dead because we are alive. We saved a life, though, as I tell her. Usually twenty-three die. This year only twenty-two did. It's a usually un-accomplishable feat for the tributes to beat. But this year we did.

She straightens up and pokes her head out. I smile at her genuinely and tell her it's time for dinner. She nods slowly, sits up, and rubs a hand down her hair. Something important seems to dawn on her.

"I know this is a weird question, but… is my hair… red like fire… or blood?" she stutters.

Smiling, I stand up; walk over to her, and carefully play with her hair a bit. "Of course it's fire. Why else do you think I call you 'my flame'?"

She nods slowly again, and we head to the jam-packed dining room. Callon is across from Marshole, Sally is across from Gloss, and Amemelia is across from Ema. The only seats left are the ones on the edges of the table, which means we will be at least two yards apart the whole meal.

I just _love_ this seating arrangement _so much_.

Well, I can either sit by two insane Capitol stylists, or two insane Capitol escorts. I, reluctantly, give Marissa the stylist seat and sit between Amemelia and Ema.

I _love_ it more.

Amemelia growls anytime anyone tries to speak to her. Ema is cheerful, though, and in getting to know her, like Marshole: a Capitol freak and obnoxiously Capitol-like, but a good friend and loyal and actually funny once you get past her correcting your every manor or grammatical mistake.

"She's very 'grammatically correct', as she says," Callon says from across the table.

"It's true," Sally says.

Ema smiles, proud of her grammar.

"But we have more… well… escorts, stylists, not to offend you, but will you leave for just a while? We victors need to have a mentors-to-new-victors chat," Gloss interrupts the great "fun." I won't lie; this hasn't been _horrible_.

The stylists and escorts nod and run off. I am left with Sally, Gloss, and Marissa. We go to the sitting room. After a long, long pause, Gloss starts.

"They aren't happy," he bursts.

"Who?" Marissa asks.

"The Capitol," Gloss answers. "And frankly, I'm not too happy with the new couple, either."

"Shut up, _Gloss_," Sally hisses. "We need no _'Career'_ advice. Listen, you two. You're in trouble with the Capitol, especially you, Marvel. That stunt with the double-suicide really pushed the limits. And because Marvel created it, he's in bucket-loads more trouble than you, Marissa."

"You want the good news or the bad news first?" Gloss spits at Marissa. "You seem lonely over there without the guy who might have gotten us all killed. So, you decide."

"He didn't get us all killed!" Sally and Marissa snap.

"Bad first," I say.

Gloss smiles sarcastically. "Thank you, my killer. And to think I mentored you!" After a shake of the head in disgust, Gloss rushes on. "The districts believe you love each other, but they are in chaos—or believed to be soon in some districts' cases—over two tributes from _different districts_ winning, let alone the fact that two won at all. Good news? The Capitol insists you two live together, but at the reapings, the one in the other district will go back to their home district for mentoring. So the lovebirds get a house to themselves! And, Marvel, dear boy; you're literally dead if you don't pull this thing off with that _girl_ over there from _District Five_. Again, to think I mentored you! What did I do wrong? Did I not make it clear enough to _stay with the Careers and make sure Glimmer did, too?_ Or to _make any contact unless killing them with any other districts besides One and Two and any other Career_?"

You know, sometimes I just _hate_ Gloss.

But now Gloss is beside my worries. _Pull it off?_ Pull _what_ off? I've already dedicated everything I have to this girl! And want to do more; just anything I can for her! Have I not made it clear enough that I'd _die_ for her? How much more in love can I be? What does the Capitol expect me to do?

Having been raised in a Career district, I've been taught that, no matter what, the Capitol is perfect and magical. I've had no reason to doubt it, for the reason we are struggling is my father. But now, after they've threatened my life, I have reasons to believe otherwise. I'm entitled to that, right?

"What about her? Will they kill Marissa?" Before Gloss can speak, I add, "Sally?"

"Yes. They won't kill her. Leave her as the example like they have for Finnick Odair or Haymitch Abernathy. Kill off her family or something," Sally responds. Marissa's eyes widen in surprise. Well, wider, since they were already the size of her fists. "And after that, it'll be worse. They'll force her to do something retched."

"What about our tributes?" Marissa asks, her eyes growing smaller gradually.

"Let's just say," Sally says grimly, as we are all speaking, "Districts One and Five won't have a victor for a while…"

"So, we killed at least twenty more kids besides the twenty-two in the arena?" Marissa exclaims. She stands up, turns around, and mutters, "I'm going to bed."

I let her go down the hall and then stand up and follow her; not listening to Gloss and Sally saying that there's still things to discuss. I rush to her room and knock on the door until she lets me in. I sit in the same chair I always do when I stay in her room overnight. She crawls back under the covers.

When she's asleep, my eyes stay trained on the large space that's left empty in her bed. With a shaky breath, she starts to squirm in bed.

It's sickening what they've done to her. The sly, little fox; now a ruined piece of meat, hunted, cooked, and cut up by the Capitol already. It makes me want to kill each and every one of them. I know Marissa would be scared half to death at this, but it makes me smile. It makes me think of how I am not all gone, because I still have my Career essence in me; the essence of the past. Though I want desperately to get rid of this, I now I never will be able to, because it's a piece of the past, and a smack in the face to the Capitol.

My eyes fall back to the empty space.

When I wake up, I am at her side, and have my arms are around her, holding on to her for dear life. I got in with her last night. It figures; the space was so tempting, too tempting. I had to. It doesn't feel right, though, even though we slept together like this many times in the arena. It feels as though I have no right to sleep with her in a real bed, rather than on the forest floor.

I look out the window for one moment, and see the most beautiful thing in the world other than the girl who was previously in my arms: District One. I'm home. I can't believe it. I've missed it too much. It hurt. But now, here I am, home! My mind soars. Beryl, Obsidian, mother, Gleam. It's all so amazing. I get up, rush to my room, get dressed in the contents on my bed—a suit, so I figured it is my designated clothing for arrival—and return to Marissa's car. She's dressed in a red dress. Knee-length, her hair like it was in interviews… Beautiful, like usual, just defined by the Capitol.

Once we are finally outside the train and in the district, I see everything in all of its glory. The Justice Building, untouched by hardships like most districts' Justice Buildings are. The shiny shops in the front of the city, the fields in the middle, the neighborhoods in the back, and, finally, the factories in the far-far back. The factories are the only downfall.

Oh, how I missed this place. I missed going to town to our neighbors' sweets store and buying Obsidian strawberries covered in caramel, Beryl "Sweet Honey Fruits," and I just a chocolate bar, and then taking them to our mother's clothing store and eating it while she scolds us for having sweets before dinner every Friday and Tuesday, when I get my paycheck for work at one of the factories. I miss taking Beryl to the Fine Arts hall and Obsidian to the diamonds museum. I miss going horseback riding with my friend, Gleam Sherrelle.

When I snap out of my thought, I kiss Marissa. I pick her up and spin her around. I am gleeful, giddy. I never want to leave this place again, and I never want to leave her. We wave for the crowd as they scream. I kiss Marissa again, and she tears up. "See you soon, my diamond," she says.

The big Careers—the ones who are ridiculously loyal to the Capitol to the point where they act like they are from the Capitol—scream and cheer and squeal at her calling me her diamond. "I'll miss you, my flame," I whisper against her lips.

She waves for one last time at the district, and Gloss comes off the train. Marissa gets in and waves as the doors close, only at me. Then she's gone.

I wave at the crowd more, and then am taken down, away from the crowd, and to my new house, already filled with all of our things. Soon Obsidian, my mother, and Beryl are inside the new house in the Victors' Village, too. I hug them tightly. Then I hug my mother, and go to the couch.

I collapse there and close my eyes, tired. I open them, though, and smile at my family.

I'm home.

"I knew you would come home," says Beryl, my eleven-year-old sister. "You promised, after all."

"No, I didn't. I swore." She nods and sits next to me, hugging me again.

"I haven't gone to see the obsidian since you left," Obsidian says in his little, six-year-old voice.

I ruffle his hair. "How about tomorrow? Want to see them tomorrow?"

"Yeah!" he exclaims, and runs down the hall somewhere I don't know of.

I sink back into the couch. Beryl follows Obsidian. Mother and I are all that's left in the room. She sits next to me with a sympathetic look. My eyes search hers for a moment, and then I just want to hug her, but I won't. I don't know why, but I can't.

"When's Parcel Day?" I ask.

"Sometime next week," she says. "Listen, Marvel, I'm sorry. I really am. I'm so, so sorry, but…" She trails off. I don't want to hear the rest of this. "Beryl took tesserae when we thought you were going to die. Tesserae for the next reaping."

"It's fine," I say. It isn't, but there will be volunteers next year, no doubt. We're in District One, after all.

* * *

><p>For the first Parcel Day I am still at home and it is today. I can't believe they haven't made Marissa or I move to the others' district yet. Soon, though, I am sure.<p>

People who already have tons and tons to eat pile in front of me, begging for souvenirs, gifts, for me to meet them, and, in some cases, for me to secretly kiss them. "No one has to know," they say.

It's terrible. All these people who don't need the food. There's a tiny little Everdeen girl out there that needs this more than the bitches that want me to cheat on Marissa with them do. Retched. I want to barf at the sight.

I stand before them, handing out food, counting down the hours until I get to see her again.

**A/N: Not the end of the series! I promise! **

**I can't help but feel like I sparked the Marvissa fanfiction. I know I didn't like the couple first, but I wrote the first story of it on fanfiction, and maybe the first at all. Because before I started to write TDF, there were no Foxface x Marvel fics, and now there are three, not including mine. It's true!**

**And check out my poll and review for a quick update!**


	18. Chapter 18: Above All Else

**A/N: Hey! I had tons of projects this week, so sorry there was basically no contact with me at all, or very little. This could very well be the last chapter of this book… read to see!**

**Title: Above All Else**

**POV: Marissa Markison**

**Going back home for Marissa.**

Marvel has gotten off the train, along with Gloss, but Amemelia is still her, along with Sally and Ema. Sally and Ema I don't mind; they're practically family now. But Amemelia rips my mind to shreds with her constant complaining, snarky comments, and hatred for me. She reminds me so much of Gloss… and I hate that man like I hate her, but more, since he hates his own _tribute_. I might have cause Sally a life, but she's nice always, even to Marvel, who I wouldn't blame her to hate, since he's not her tributes.

After agonizingly long hours, around five in the evening, Sally and I are finally home, and allowed to get off the train.

Relief washes over me, but then worry. I have no Marvel to convince that I am sad to see go… So, I must act depressed. I was relived, for once after weeks in the Capitol's careful watching, that I didn't have to act for anyone, that I could finally be _me_, like I was around Marvel, because around Marvel, any personality I seemed to have unless rebellious wouls suffice for the Capitol. But here, I realize, until weeks and weeks after the Victory Tour, I will always be on watch, and always have to act for someone, whether it is the Capitol, or my family.

What hurts most about that statement is that I have to lie to my family, so they think everything's alright. But everything's not. It's the opposite. The Capitol hates me, especially Marvel, and might kill my family. Might kill me. And then, what better to make us suffer than separate us for who knows how long. Probably for a more dramatic, realistic reunion. Anyway, I don't want to wait months before I see Marvel, but I know I will have to.

I miss him already, with his black eyes and his happy personality constantly unless I'm sad, for which his only goal is to make me happy, and then joke around. I love his playful smile, and miss it, too. I miss his ruffled, always-messy, curly blonde hair. I miss his voice. I miss my diamond.

But I miss my family, too. That hurts more than I miss Marvel. I never though I'd see them again, and now here they are; just a town's length away until I'm at the Victors' Village with them! I'm practically bursting with energy.

My eyes spot them. The quaint little family in the corner, adoring me. Adoring that I am home. Smiling, waving, wanting my attention. But I can't look at them. Not while I'm still acting for the Capitol. That would sicken me. The first glance I take at my family I want to be a happy, joyful one, full of life and love and happiness. I want a fairytale reunion. But that fairytale can finally be real.

A tear of happiness that I make look like a tear of depression falls down my cheeks. I look into the eyes of those before me, happy to have another victor. Surely some of them are happy I outsmarted the Capitol, too. But that's what I'm least worried about. I don't want a rebellion. Though I don't want Panem the way it is, a rebellion would blow out the population. I just want my family, Marvel's family, Marvel, and I to be safe.

Once I can finally go home, I avoid my parents, rushing home with my face in my hands, pretending as if I'm crying. _How I wish Marvel!_ I think sarcastically, though I do miss him, just not like the Capitol wants.

When I am to the house that is mine—it says "Markisons residence" on the door—I burst inside and lie on the couch, my head still in my hands. If I am to play this up, I must play it up to everyone and for everything it is worth. All I really want to do is laugh at the ridiculousness and reunite with my family.

But I can't do that.

"Marissa, are you alright?" a voice asks. I love that voice. I miss it so, _so achingly_ much. It's my fourteen-year-old sister, Palentina's, voice.

I nod, still crying, but for real and out of happiness, but I don't let them know that.

"Honey, calm down. What's wrong?" My father! Oh, I miss him! I throw my arms around his neck as he kneels next to me and bury my face in his shirt. "Who-hoah!"

"I love you," I whisper.

"You made it!" exclaims my twin ten-year-old siblins, Jensen and Serena. Jensen's the boy, Serena's the girl. They both look like my mother, like me, unlike Palentina, whom is an exact replica of my father, with her short, straight brown hair and green eyes.

"I made it," I 'sob.' "I—I—Where's my room?" Yes, I have a plan. Go to my room for a moment, "wash off," and then unite with them.

"Palentina, take your sister to her room," orders my father. "Jensen, Serena, go get dinner from the café."

Serena and Jensen nod. Palentina takes me down a hallway to a large room with two beds. The ceiling in higher than the rest of the house. I look up to see a second "floor" of sorts, with a library, and a ladder going up to it. The walls are red and white, like… flames and diamonds. Marvel will move here, taken away from his family when the Capitol makes him move, and my family will be forced in the tiny house down the road.

I sit on my bed and run a finger along mother's quilt she knitted long ago. When I'm home, I never sleep without it. Palentina sits next to me.

"Want to talk about it? About anything?" she asks.

I nod, because I really do, and though I won't tell her the details—I trust her; I just don't want her to have information that could get her in trouble—I will tell her a similar version to the real story I desperately want to tell.

"It's Marvel, mainly," I mumble, and end up spitting everything out. Everything.

She looks awestruck and sympathetic. "Oh. Marissa… what…"

"I know. But you can't tell _anyone_, for their lives will be more in jeopardy if they know," I tell her. I add, "I didn't even mean to tell you all of it."

"You can tell me anything," she says. "I swear. I am your favorite sibling, aren't I?"

I smile. We used to argue—all of us. And I declared that Palentina was my favorite sibling. I was young.

"Not even Dad, Pal." I am worried it might slip from her accidentally when she nods.

"Not even Dad," she confirms.

"Now run along. I'm supposed to be bitterly depressed, after all." She gives a light laugh and leaves the room.

I sit in my room, staring at the view of the blue sky. Back at our old house, the view was of electricity lines.

I sit in my room a long time, and then go out. I go down the hallway and search for a bathroom. Once I do, I run the sink quickly—a luxury I've never had—and return to the living room.

It's awkward—the glances they give me. I don't—I can't do this again. Not to them. Because it's just not me. It's the Capitol's Marissa Markison, not theirs. And all I want to do is throw away the Capitol's Marissa Markison for good.

We all hug and laugh and talk in our reunion. It's a happy one. It's a happy family in a happy new house. I can guarantee that none of that happiness will be lasting too much longer. I guess happiness just hit me somehow. It came my way. But the Capitol won't keep it in my way.

Jensen and Serena taunt that they got my chicken from the café since I was in my room. Palentina smiles. My father goes to do errands.

"Come on," I say.

"Where?" Jensen groans as Serena pulls him up.

"Let's go get us something expensive. What do you say?"

Now he's basically jumping up and down. I smile as he runs out the door before we can even decide where to go to get our expensive thing. Serena wants ice cream. Palentina wants a celebration cake. Jensen wants a celebratory ice cream cake. We go to the bakery for the latter.

When we get home with our new desert, we each have a piece and then put it in the freezer. The twins go to town for who know what reason and I go to my room. I wonder what Parcel Day's like.

I hand the food to all the poor people. They run around and smile and the children start to laugh. I'm sure this brings a smile to any troubled victor's face if they aren't from a Career district. Which Marvel is.

I wonder how he's doing today, all the way in District One. Is he appalled? Sad? Troubled? Indifferent? I doubt the latter, since I've never seen Marvel indifferent, or not for long enough to remember if I have.

A small, short, skinny boy approaches me. He has light, pale skin and spiky light brown hair. Something seems so familiar about him. When he looks up at me, I see tears. So familiar…

Zeke had a little brother, Drake.

"A—Are you Drake Roadsmith?" I ask tentatively.

The little boy nods softly. My mouth opens as I prepare to say something, but I'm not good with comfort. I may have a way with words, to the point where it doesn't trouble me, and I can usually make myself look good—well, if sly and cunning are good, because I love playing up that act more than I actually am in real life, though if I may say so myself, I am quite sly and cunning. But comfort is not my thing. So, I hand him his parcel and softly say—more a stutter, like: "I—I am—wait, don't go! I—I am so—I'm… am sorry…"—an apology. He barely acknowledges it. And just as he is almost out of earshot—he runs _fast_!—I call, "I send my condolences for Zeke!" and am surprised I managed such as that.

And if Drake wasn't enough, a little girl with dark skin, big brown eyes, and dark hair approaches me. Just like the girl from Eleven that screams in my nightmares for Marvel and I to _stop, stop, stop, just please stop_ torturing her—also known as Rue, the girl Marvel killed. I wonder if they actually sent someone from Eleven just to get under my skin…

"Miss Markison, will you please hand your duties over to your family members over there for one moment? A phone call just inside here"—he motions to the Justice Building behind us—"is for you. _He_ says it's important."

By the way he says "he," I know it's Marvel. I almost jump for joy. After a little over a week of not seeing him, I already want to badly. Very badly, actually, indeed. I miss him so, but not as much as the Capitol believes. I'm not on the verge of _killing_ myself over it. I've had enough killing lately.

Inside, I hear that it is him.

"Hello," I answer formally, as though I don't know it's him.

"Hi, my flame," he says back. I smile.

"Mhm… wait one second," I say to the phone. I put it against my shoulder and peer expectantly at the Peacekeepers staring behind me, and the one secretary. "Not to be rude, but may I have this time alone? It's Marvel and all…"

"Oh, but of course," agrees the secretary as she pulls the Peacekeepers out gently.

I return the phone to my ear and sit on the floor. "Back. Now… mhm? Yes, my diamond?"

"How're things? Is Parcel Day over in Five yet?" he asks. His voice sounds static-y over the phone. "It is in One. It was _awful_."

"No, it's not over, and—" He cuts me off.

"Should I call your home later?"

"No. Why did you call here in the first place, though, before I say more?"

I can tell he's grinning when he says, "I knew it wasn't over in Five."

I laugh. "Marvel! You're lucky my sisters and father pitched in!"

"I thought you had a brother, too?"

"He's eating cake at the district café."

"Ah, I see. Now, what were you going to say?"

This all seems restricted, and not at all like ourselves. But it is contact, and I'm glad for it.

"Oh, yeah. I saw Drake Roadsmith, my district partner's brother. I didn't know what to say, so I ended up yelling that I send my condolences across the length of town. That was terrible. He was crying. But he really runs fast! And then I saw Rue's '_twin_.' You remember Rue?"

"Sounds awful."

"It kind of is. When are you moving here?"

"How did you know I was moving there?"

"There's a giant two-bedded bedroom in my house, and only two other bedrooms that look more like guestrooms." I hear him sigh. "So, when? And tell me quick. I have got to go."

"Soon," he says. "I'll call you at—what do you say? Six? Seven? Three hours?"

"For me, three hours _is_ six."

"Oh. Well, call you then. Later, Foxface." And before I can reply with a snarky comment about 'Career Boy,' he hangs up.

I roll my eyes and put the phone back in the wall, standing up. I go back to my Parcel Day, and wait for six desperately.

But yet, I know that's the least of my worries. My family, Marvel's family, Marvel—they're all in danger. I want desperately to be able to help them, but I can't. And I can't believe I'm saying this, despite the nightmares, but I miss being in the arena. Things were so much simpler in Marvel's warm, safe, protective arms…

Above all else that is going on, I miss being the diamond flame with him.

**A/N: Guessy essy whatty utty? (Excuse my annoying talk there.) This was the last chapter of Book 1! Oh, and I know how the series is going to end! I'll just say this: It's devastatingly sad. I won't tell you why. The series will be 3 to 4 books long.**

**So. I'll decide a title tonight (it _will_ be one of your—meaning any person who suggested one—suggestions; or at least close) and get the first chapter of Book 2 up in the afternoon on Sunday. No sooner, no later! You'll have to wait! It's like announcing the date a movie or something's coming out, and you have to wait until then! **

**Now for the mushy thank you's and all to every single person who reviewed, even if only once… WARNING: I suck at thank you's… so… well, if it's corny or forced… that's why:**

**Thank you to CallingMeFakeWontMakeYouReal for standing by me for _all_ of my stories, no matter what. Thank you for encouraging me and helping me when I need it for writer's block fixes. Thank you for reviewing every chapter (you did, right?). Thank you for everything you've done for me and my writing, and an especially big thank you to you because you gave me the idea for Foxface and Marvel to be together in the first place that made me a big Marvissa fan and inspired me to write the story!**

**Thank you to DonPianta for giving me wonderful reviews and often some helpful constructive criticism. I appreciate every single one of your reviews and hope you really do stick with me and my stories to the end of the series! **

**Thank you to Huntress3419 for reviewing most of the time and leaving such wonderful reviews of my writing. I really hope I see a review of yours in the next book of the series!**

**Thank you to Hungergamesobsessive for sticking with me even though you came towards the end of the story! That really means a lot to me, because when the story on this website has over five chapters written by the time I read it, I am usually not able to focus with it and read it unless it's flawlessly brilliant as the original book and just as compellingly engrossing. So, thank you for sticking with me even though I am incapable of what you've accomplished with my story! **

**Thank you to PandaHeroIzy for the same. **

**Thank you to Desstrea, also, for the same, and for her wanting my opinion of her writing. That really means a lot to me because a long time ago, after I first got started writing on a different website, I thought I was awful. In all honesty, I was, compared to now. No one read my writing. I was about to give up on everything, every dream I had in being an author or anything. But I couldn't, now without asking my favorite author on that website her opinion of my story. She loved it, and that's why I'm here writing this today. So the fact that you want my opinion of your writing—well, it means lot to me.**

**Thank you to Araka-chan for her reviews and her complementing of the story. I appreciate is very much.**

**Thank you to . Well, first I have to say: I love your username! And also, thank you for your reviews and your ideas that you gave me which made the story end up the way it did. And you also gave me an idea of the ending! No one will guess it! At least, I hope not…!**

**Thank you to Glimmer Green Eyes. I'm glad you love my story even though it goes against your ship beliefs. Thanks for your wonderful input! **

**Thank you to whiteleg25 for your amazing input. And thank you for Marvel's unbreakable-ness! **

**Thank you very much to DaydreamKid!**

**Thank you to he-would-be-my-peeta! **

**Thank you very much to HungerGamesXox!**

**Thank you very much to The Mysterious E!**

**Thanks so much to ! **

**Thank you very much to Serenebutterfly23! Serene is actually what I wanted Foxface's name to be before I found out it was Marissa!**

**Thank you so much to Ivory Rabbit! **

**Thank you to NZfangirl!**

**Thank you so much to MarisaCan'tRememberHerPassword for the great reviews and nice, helpfully put constructive criticism!**

**And last, but certainly not least, thank you to Team Glimmer, Lil Scream Queen, and ThisLittleBabydoll for some of my first reviews!**

**That took me longer than the chapter did! Well, see you next story!**

**~~wjjmsmsn5**


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